


The Dragon Bride

by God_of_Insanity



Series: Dark Hearts: Of Men & Monsters [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Sephiroth, Demons, Dragons, Elves, Father/Son Incest, Half-Elves, M/M, Male Slash, Marathon Sex, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, No Chaos/Vincent Incest, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rough Sex, Sharing, Slow Romance, Smut, Tags May Change, Threesome - M/M/M, Twins, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-07-22 07:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 90,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7424923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Insanity/pseuds/God_of_Insanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To protect his Kingdom and his daughter, King Gast offers his daughter's personal bodyguard, the Knight Commander Sephiroth, as a sacrifice to the “Demons”.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RoamingFirefly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoamingFirefly/gifts), [Malind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malind/gifts).



> Ugh, I keep getting all these ideas! I had to write this. I know I have a bunch of stories, but it wouldn’t leave me alone. I guess I have a thing for making Aerith and Sephiroth have an affectionate, loving (mostly platonic, of course) relationship. 
> 
> Also, for this story I decided to use Present tense. I’m used to writing in past tense, so if you notice slip ups, that’s why. Don’t be afraid to let me know. ;)
> 
> One more thing, back then, it was “Ser” not Sir, so I’m going with Ser. 
> 
> I blame RoamingFirefly and Malind so thank them, or curse them. I hope you all enjoy. :3

“You do not have to do this!” Cries the princess while she clings to her tall, silver-haired knight and closest friend. She cannot help the tears that stream down in glimmering rivulets down her delicate face as she sobs into his armor.

The silver-haired knight commander by the name of Sephiroth simply stands there with one arm loosely hanging around the petite lady’s waist. His other hand gently strokes her long cinnamon brown, braided hair in an effort to console her. Despite her tears, he feels numb at the moment and doesn’t know really what to say to comfort her. He actually should be the one crying, or at the very least trembling, but that is something he is trained not to do no matter what. He is a soldier, a warrior and is prepared to die at any moment no matter how painful or terrifying such a prospect is to him. And oh, it is. He wants to live as much as she wants him to; nevertheless, he wants her to live _more_.

 “Yes, Aerith, I do. My duty first and foremost is to protect you, and if I must die to do this, I shall,” murmurs Sephiroth once watery emerald eyes look up to stare at him beseechingly.

 “You cannot protect me if you are dead!” Protests the princess as she furiously wiped away her tears with one balled up hand.

 “Your father is ill. Not many know of this, but should he die within the year, and he most likely will, we will need you to take his place. This kingdom needs a good ruler and you can do this. You have been trained for this all your life and I know, I _know_ you can do it. It may be blasphemous to say this, but I truly believe you will be an even better ruler than your father, Aer.”

 Aerith looks down and trains her eyes on the ground which makes her resemble a petulant child. Her hoarse voice is small as she whispers, “But why does it have to be you?”

 “It is the only way,” says the Knight Commander with a heavy sigh. Dying doesn’t frighten him like it does most people. As a human being, he should be upset about having to die, but he’s not. The only thing that upsets him is the fact that he will not be around to protect Aerith anymore. Her protection will be left to his subordinates Cloud and Zack. Zack is right under him in rank so that very well means the slightly younger man will be promoted to Knight Commander and Cloud will receive Zack’s rank of Knight Captain. They are good soldiers and he trusts them with his own life. But with Aerith’s, he is not so certain. Then again, there isn’t really anyone besides himself that he trusts with the Princess’ life. It is not like he has a choice, really. Sephiroth will just have to swallow his pride and let Zack take what was once his most cherished, honored duty.

 After a few minutes of silence, the Knight Commander speaks her name only to be ignored. He gingerly places the tips of his bare fingers underneath the Princess’ chin and raises her head until she’s looking up at him. Or at least, her face is. Her eyes are still stubbornly glaring at the ground as if it is to blame for this calamity. “Hey, now. Do not be that way, Princess. Do you think I enjoy the thought of leaving you behind? If I could change things, I would have it so that I am always with you.”

 Aerith slowly looks up at the man she loves more than anyone and anything in the world. Her body begins trembling as her eyes leak copious amounts of tears once more. She shudders and buries her face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably as his strong, comforting arms encircle her body, pulling her in as tightly and as closely as possible without harming her.

“My sword, my life…will always be yours,” promises Sephiroth before he leans down to kiss Aerith chastely on the crown of her head.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

“You do not have to accompany me, Zack,” sighs Sephiroth as he rides his raven black horse ahead of the small squadron of soldiers riding behind the Knight Commander and Captain. Cloud had been ordered to stay behind to protect the Princess lest someone dare attack while Ser Zack is away.

 Zack smiles at his friend and Commander, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. There is sorrow etched so deeply in his blue eyes that Sephiroth can’t bring himself to look into them for very long. He doesn’t want anyone to feel sad over his Sacrifice, but he knows if he were in their places, he would feel exactly what they’re feeling. “I know, but I want to.”

 “It is a long trip,” says Sephiroth as he focuses on the dirt road ahead of them.

 “I know that, too,” replies the spiky-haired Knight as he glances over his shoulder wistfully. He then adds, “You know…they had to lock the Princess in her room. She was adamant about accompanying you.”

 In his mind, Sephiroth could clearly see the Princess frantically banging her little fists on her bedroom chamber doors. Such an image caused a wry smile to grace his face for a few moments before it disappears. He is certain she would probably attempt to switch places with him, _if_ given the chance. The silver-haired soldier had left clear instructions for Cloud and the others to keep an eye on her at all times…without spying on her getting dressed or bathing, of course.

 “I am entrusting you with more than just duty, Zack. Aerith is more than just the future Queen of Midgar. Remember this,” speaks Sephiroth loud enough for only Zack to hear over the sound of hooves clopping against dirt. In his head, he secretly thinks to himself, _‘If you only knew the whole truth, Zack. If you knew…you would not let me go through with this.’_

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

The ride to Kalm takes nearly four days using the Kingdom’s fastest horses that have been specially trained to run long treks without many breaks. When they do rest, the men eat or sleep about an hour before they are on the road again. Sephiroth and his small group do not know what to expect, but a dense forest was not it. Most of the men had assumed they would be traveling into a vast, lifeless desert full of man-eating demons.

 The Knight Commander frowns once they reach the chosen destination on the map. It’s quiet, too quiet as they sit astride their weary, yet alert horses. The forest is dark and brimming full of some strange energy that unsettles even the horses. The men behind him murmur fearfully amongst themselves. All that does is upset the horses even more and cause the strange energy surrounding them to thicken until it feels like it’s suffocating them all.

 “Be silent, all of you,” orders Sephiroth in a tight voice. Something in him warns him that they’re being watched right now. Call it intuition, instinct, clairvoyance or whatever else, but he knows this feeling well and he knows they’re not being watched by animals.

 Zack is the only one besides himself that is sitting calmly and quietly. As usual, he waits patiently and looks to Sephiroth for direction. The other men immediately quiet down and gape at their Commander in a mix of awe and expectation. Most soldiers and even civilians, always become awestruck by his mere presence and all too eager to jump at his command. He had become the Knight Commander at the young age of fourteen-years-old, which is the youngest age any man or woman ever has been in the history of Midgar to fill such a role. He has been trained since he could walk to fight in battle and to protect the Princess. His strength and power is legendary among the people to an extent many believe him to be mere myth and not a real man at all. Even people from other countries have heard of his might, skill, and legend. His enemies believe him to be a demon born in the world of mortals to spread chaos and death wherever he walks. Allies have dubbed him as the Silver Knight while his enemies have branded him as the Silver Demon of Wutai.

 Now at the still relatively young age of 27, this legendary man is to die.

 “We are being watched. Calm yourselves, but be alert,” warns Sephiroth in a low voice just loud enough for his men to hear him. The last thing he wants these Knights to do is cause an unwanted conflict. After all, he is here to protect the kingdom of Midgar and ensure that these… _people_ , whatever they are, will be allies to Aerith when she becomes Queen. Everyone else believes them to be demons, but Sephiroth knows they are people. He doesn’t know their race exactly, but he is pretty certain they aren’t demons. The Knight Commander has fought demons before on many occasions and none of them have ever been this civil, this organized. Demons are crafty, but tend to be solitary beings bent on lust or destruction.

 The instructions he had received have been attached to a map, which has led them to this precise location. They have been instructed to wait here until someone comes to receive them. He isn’t surprised that they wouldn’t dare reveal their exact location. Sephiroth suspects that when someone does show up, they will blindfold them, or knock them unconscious. Of course, that’s _if_ they actually intend to kill him somewhere else. For all he knows, they could just cut him down where he is right now. He hopes the Sacrifice will take place elsewhere because he doesn’t want Zack to see it. Seeing someone die and knowing someone is going to die are two different torments, one more heart rending than the other. Sephiroth has had few real friends in his short lifetime, yet he has experienced what it feels like to watch one die. He considers Zack one of his few friends and wishes to shield him from such a trauma.

 Zack Fair is a good man and an excellent soldier. Of that, Sephiroth has no doubt. He knows the slightly younger man is far from innocent, but still, there’s a light still resonating within Zack that Sephiroth hopes never gets extinguished. It’s a purity he sees within the Princess, too, and because of this, he feels Zack will be able to successfully fulfil his duty in Sephiroth’s stead.

 After all, Zack is not… _tainted_ , like Sephiroth.

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

A couple of hours later, the Knights are sitting around a fire to keep warm as they drink from their water flasks and eat their rations. They are still pretty much glued to the same spot as before; however, this time everyone is dismounted from their horses. Some had initially wanted to hunt game for a fresh meal, but Sephiroth had forbade it since this forest isn’t their territory and there’s no telling _what_ dwells here. Fortunately for them, there’s a small creek nearby so that their horses can leisurely drink from it as they rest from their long journey. 

 Sephiroth sighs softly from his position leaning against a tree. His arms are loosely crossed against his chest as he waits for the inevitable. He has already insisted that Zack and the men leave him behind to journey back home, but that is one order that goes by ignored. He really can’t fault them for that, though.

 A branch or twig snaps nearby, which has Sephiroth whipping his head in the direction of the noise. He is tense as he tries to pinpoint the source of the noise only to realize it is only a lone female deer. The doe stands frozen in place as it stares at the Knight Commander with its eyes wide. Sighing again, he turns his face away and listens to the doe leaping away to safety. Something about that has him thinking about Aerith and how she’s like that doe. Safe now…for the time being.

 “ _My, aren’t you a pretty one_ ,” suddenly speaks a silky, deep male voice that sounds entirely too close for Sephiroth’s liking. He immediately turns his head quickly to pinpoint the owner of the voice. If he had not been leaning against a tree, he probably would have leapt away since the strange male is standing literally three feet away from him. Instead of moving away, he unlocks his arms and keeps them free just in case he needs to summon his sword _Masamune_. 

 Zack and the rest of his soldiers immediately jump to their feet and unsheathe their swords as they advance towards the stranger. Sephiroth raises his hand quickly to halt them from approaching any closer.

 “Sheathe your swords,” orders Sephiroth with a glare tossed their way. He unclenches his jaw once he hears the slide of metal into scabbards. Once he is satisfied that they have followed his order, he turns his attention back to the very calm man standing before him.

 The strange man stands taller than him by at least three or four inches with a broader, muscular chest that tapers gradually down to a narrow waist. He’s almost completely naked except for the black leathery loin cloth that conceals his manhood. His tanned, heavily black tattooed skin is smooth and hairless save for some serious scarring here and there that looks as if the scars have been caused by blades _and_ claws. Since he’s pretty much nearly naked, it’s easy to make out the taut, sinewy muscles that ripple with even the slightest motion. His physique is strong, yet sleek like Sephiroth’s, but it’s clear that this man is larger than the Knight Commander. It’s also clear that this man is a powerful warrior due to not only his form, but the way he stands. And of course, there’s also the blades strapped to different parts of his body.

 It’s obvious even at a quick glance that this man isn’t human, or at least, not completely due to the long black horns near his temples that curve elegantly behind him and the pointed, elf-like ears. His raven black hair is straight and flowing wild with several braids with gold beads weaved into the braids here and there. Something else is strange, but due to the man facing him, Sephiroth can barely make out what looks like… _scales_ , he thinks, that seem to be located on the back of his arms and legs, but he’s not certain from this angle. He’d have to walk around to look, but Sephiroth isn’t about to move a muscle. He hasn’t survived this long due to being stupid, after all.

 Sephiroth finally chances a look at the odd man’s face and instantly regrets it. The man is dreadfully androgynous and beautiful, much like Sephiroth is himself, but something about his beauty is more severe, more feral. He regrets looking because the moment he does, very intelligent, metallic golden eyes with impossibly long black lashes lock onto his own green orbs. At that exact moment, something foreign sears through him, making him feel akin to how that doe had felt mere moments ago. He just hopes to the Goddess that he doesn’t _look_ like that deer right now.

 A slow smile unravels on the strange being’s face as he regards Sephiroth as if he can sense the Knight Commander’s unease as clear as day. He sweeps his long-fingered hand towards Sephiroth as he inquires, “I assume you are the one in charge, yes?”

 “Yes, you are correct. I am the Knight Commander Sephiroth and these are my men. They…thought it fit to accompany me this far,” explains the silver-haired male who is relieved when his voice stays steady and doesn’t waver. He hopes to every God and Goddess that his face is neutral and isn’t betraying how intimidated he feels in this man’s presence. It’s such an unnatural, almost unknown feeling to Sephiroth. He’s never felt like this before and that unsettles him. The green-eyed soldier feels irritated with himself and would smack himself if such an action wouldn’t make him appear crazy in front of the stranger and his men. There’s no need to dwell on it much longer since he’s going to die soon enough. With that in mind, he pushes his irksome feelings away and steels himself for what is surely to come.

 The golden-eyed being slowly peers around Sephiroth and the other human Knights before he once again fixes his attention on the silver-haired human. He inclines his head as he questions, “Where is the female?”

 “ _Female_? What female?” Asks Sephiroth in a blank tone in an effort to mask the mounting disquiet he feels. He hopes to the Goddess that this man, or whatever he is, isn’t expecting Aerith to be…

 “The female that is to be Sacrificed, of course,” answers the scantily clad male as if Sephiroth should know this already. He is no longer smiling, but his intense eyes continue to bore into the Commander as if he can read him like a book.

 In a firm voice, Sephiroth openly states, “There is no female. I am the Sacrifice.”

 Zack and the rest of the soldiers cry out in outrage, their loud exclamations rising in volume as their anger escalates. They are already upset that their respectable, legendary Commander has to die. To think the beast actually wants to kill a woman! It is preposterous, brutal, and beyond savage! Suddenly Zack and company are no longer willing to tolerate this heathen and his demonic people. Several gauntlets shoot downwards to grasp the hilts of swords at the soldiers’ waists. Before any of the men can draw their blades, the familiar, cutting voice of their leader slices through the air like the sound of metal rending flesh from bone.

 The Knight Commander quickly whips his head to the right to glare at his fellow soldiers. He immediately snarls, “ ** _DON’T. YOU._** _**DARE**.”  _ He then points at them like a cross mother berating her disobedient children when they don’t heed her and he hisses, _“Stand down and do not interfere or so help me Goddess, I will cut all of your bloody hands off!”_

 Even though they are still outraged and upset, the Knights’ hands drop from their hips since they aren’t willing to incur the wrath of their Commander.

 The horned warrior never once removes his captivating gaze from the silver-haired human during the transgression. Head still somewhat tilted to the side, he strokes his hairless chin, ever mindful of the fang-like black snakebite piercings.  His face betrays nothing except for a smidgeon of awe, mirth, and curiosity that seems to twinkle almost inconspicuously in his eyes. Once the noise has died down and everyone has settled down for the most part, he decides to break the silence. “My brother and I were expecting a female for the Sacrifice…but…I believe you will do. As a matter of fact, I think this will work out better than I initially thought.” He then pauses as if listening to something they cannot hear, his eyes unseeing. The next moment, his golden gaze flickers back to the silver-haired Commander and he smiles again. ”Yes…yes, you will do. I accept you as our Sacrifice, Ser Sephiroth.”

 “He will do?! You were just talking about killing a woman! As a matter of fact, why do you need to kill anyone? His life is worth more alive than a thousand deaths!” Exclaims Zack as he advances towards his friend and what he believes to be a demon.

 Before Sephiroth can open his mouth to tell Zack to shut up, the raven-haired warrior raises his hand towards Sephiroth in a peaceful gesture that seems to say: _Wait_.

 “ _Kill_? Who said anything about killing anyone?” Queries the tattooed male as he scrutinizes Zack and his compatriots. It is obvious by the look he shoots them that he thinks they are idiots.

 “Your people demanded an honorable Sacrifice from the Crown in exchange for being allied with our Kingdom,” says Zack who is not the least bit fazed by the demon’s insipid stare. At this point, he is already used to Sephiroth staring at him like he’s the king of village idiots. The thought sobers him even more and makes him wince inwardly because he doesn’t like the thought that his friend and this savage have anything remotely in common.

 Choosing to remain silent, Sephiroth stands stock still as he listens to the exchange between his friend and the stranger.

 “First of all, Sacrifice doesn’t always constitute the loss of life. Do you even know what that word means, boy? No? Well, I will tell you. Sacrifice is defined as _an act of slaughtering an animal or person_ **or** _surrendering a person or possession as an offering to a God or to a divine or supernatural being_ ,” patiently enlightens the gold-eyed male in a meticulous effort to reason with these inane humans. He lets that information sink in before he continues, “Second of all, we have demanded _nothing_ of your people. You asked us for an alliance…and we offered you one, at a price, of course. What do you think is usually sacrificed, or should I say, _offered_ in alliances, hm?”

 “Marriage…” Trails off Zack as it dawns on him just what this demon is talking about. If he is telling the truth…then that means his friend won’t be killed! The adrenaline previously pumping through his blood progressively dies down until he feels a numb sort of relief that spreads throughout his being. He’s too relieved at the prospect of Sephiroth living that the true implication of this Sacrifice doesn’t sink into his mind until later on.

 Sephiroth chooses that moment to reinsert himself back into the discussion. “Pardon me, _what_?”

 “I would not exactly label it a marriage, but I suppose to your people, that is what it is; however, to my people, we call it being bonded, well…a mating bond, to be more precise. You see, if you choose to accept, you will be our mate for as long as we live,” explains the pierced and tattooed man as he watches Sephiroth closely.

 Sephiroth feels as if he has just been slammed face first into molten hot steel. His pale face flushes beyond his control and he doesn’t have to look in a mirror to know he’s blushing like a maiden. He clenches his fists and curses under his breath at his inability to control his reaction. Being in control is something that has always been expected of him since childhood so that whenever something is out of his control, he doesn’t particularly handle it well.  It’s probably one of the numerous reasons why he has few friends and no lovers.

 Turning away, the silver-haired Knight scrubs furiously at his face with his leather-gloved hand. As he calms down, he carefully recalls everything that has been said the past hour to mull over it. Once he feels more, ahem, _collected_ , he reverts his attention back towards the taller male. “ _Our_? What do you mean by our mate? I believe you mentioned a brother? Is that the other you are implying, or am I missing something here? Does that mean that you are…”

 “Yes…I am Chaos, Lord of the Black Dragon clan, and my little brother is Lord Vincent. We rule our very large clan together and I am glad to have him at my side as my equal,” clarifies the golden-eyed man. When he notices a peculiar look on the Knight Commander’s face, he waves his hand and scoffs, “No, no, nothing like _that_. I do not know what you humans do, but incest isn’t normally practiced among my people. Vincent is my brother by blood and even though we share a close bond, we aren’t _that_ close.”

 “If that is true, then what do you mean by _our_?” Asks Sephiroth as he subtly glances around, suddenly wondering where this Vincent is and if there are more of these…dragons around. Dragons. These people are _dragons_? No, he would have to think on that later. Right now he knew he should focus on the…eh, Sacrifice thing.

 The horned man grins at Sephiroth, revealing fanged teeth, as if he thinks the human is the cutest thing alive in existence. “We share leadership, so naturally, we will also share a mate, and if you should accept, that mate will be you.”

 Sephiroth feels as if that man is entirely too close and that there is not enough air for him to breathe. He does his best to keep his breathing even and to try and slow the thundering of his overactive heart. Later he would probably find it curious how the thought of his imminent death didn’t even serve to bother him half as much as the prospect of being this dragon man’s mate. Funny how a death sentence had him calm yet a marriage, or mating bond, as Chaos put it, has him shaking like a leaf. He isn’t actually visibly shaking, but he feels himself quaking on the inside.

 “So then, Ser Sephiroth, what say you? Will you accept or…should I send you and your men to retrieve the Princess instead, hm?” Inquires the dragon. He doesn’t miss the slight widening of the human’s beautiful jade eyes at the mention of the Princess. He sees rage beginning to bloom there and it makes him tempted to prod at it, but he refrains. _Interesting_ …

 “I accept,” answers Sephiroth so quickly and with such a force of determination that it surprises everyone, even the dragon lord. He doesn’t even need a second to think about it. If he is willing to die for Aerith, then he is willing to go through with this… _mating_ thing. Taking a deep breath, he lowers himself to one knee and bows his head like a Knight about to be commended for his bravery, or punished for his insubordination. In a way, this is his way of offering himself as a Sacrifice.

 Chaos extends his arm to the Knight Commander, palm facing the heavens in what looks like his own version of an offering, an invitation. His smoldering gold eyes seem darker now as he gazes down at his would-be mate. Eyes greener than the forest slowly lift to look up at him through long, silver eyelashes. A somewhat hesitant, leather-clad hand reaches up to clasp the offered hand of the dragon lord. Said green eyes widen as something intense and almost unbearably hot sparks from the touch of that hand even though he’s wearing gloves. The spark turns into a fierce tingling that spreads from his hand to every single part of his body until there’s a low, churning heat simmering uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Sephiroth’s eyes meet Chaos’ golden hues once more and he feels ensnared by them. The silver-haired man suddenly wonders if it is truly a dragon he has made a deal with, or a demon. 

 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 


	2. Consummation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Chaos and Sephiroth get it on! So beware the (slightly dubious consent) smut. And here comes Vincent. ;)
> 
> By the way, the Slow Romance tag is for Vincent/Sephiroth. It may be awhile before our beautiful, hard-headed boys succumb to one another.

A ragged moan wrenches itself from Sephiroth’s swollen mouth as his hands scrabble desperately for purchase on the bed of furs. Part of his face and most of his chest is pressed into the fur with his back bowed and hips held up by strong, long-fingered hands that will probably leave bruises on his fair, sweat-slicked skin. A mix of his and the dragon’s bodily fluids covers him inside and out, making it harder for Chaos to grip flesh, but easier to plunge deeply inside the shorter male’s well-prepared, well-used orifice.

 “So good, so tight,” huskily rasps Chaos into Sephiroth’s ear as he leans over him. His long tongue darts out to trace the shell of the human’s ear. “Such a good, strong mate. You take me so well…”

 Despite himself, Sephiroth shudders at that and rocks back, taking more of the dragon’s cock that mercilessly plunges repeatedly into his ass. Every brush of the head against his abused prostate has him crying out, wantonly with a voice hoarse from hours of screaming. His legs shake uncontrollably from the strain of their coupling and from the overload of pleasure that has his fingers and toes curling.

 They had been at it for what must have been hours, _or_ days, Sephiroth doesn’t know. All he knows is that it’s so, so unbelievably good, but at the same time, it’s too much and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he breaks apart. If someone had told Sephiroth a day ago that he would enjoy being fucked by another man like a bitch in heat, he would have scoffed and walked away without dignifying such a joke with a response.

 “Such-a-beautiful-desirable-mate,” murmurs the dragon, punctuating every word with a snap of his strong, narrow hips. He had caught on pretty quickly that his mate has a bit of a praise kink and is even receptive to some dirty talk.

 Sephiroth’s heavy, erect dick hangs between his legs, leaking profusely as it smacks against his belly every time Chaos rams into him. Whenever the dragon says something, he feels it twitch and jerk as liquid fire seems to scorch him inside and out.

 “Oh, brother, give it a rest already. He looks like a _wreck_ ,” mutters a monotonous sounding, deep male voice. Sephiroth’s eyes snap open the moment he becomes aware of another presence in the chambers. He feels shame well up inside him so he hides his face in the furs, but his manhood doesn’t flag at all despite his discomfort.

 Chaos stills his movement out of respect for whoever is in his chambers, presumably his brother, Vincent, but he remains rooted to the hilt deep inside the panting silver-haired man. He turns his head and grins lazily at his unamused brother as his thumbs rub soothing circles into the slighter male’s hips. “What’s the matter, Vin? You want a go? I’m kind of buried in my work at the moment, but if you want to fuck him, I will, _ahem_ , reluctantly pull out and leave you to it.”

 The one called Vincent sighs, “I will pass.”

 “All right, suit yourself…but you could at least introduce yourself,” says Chaos as he peppers kisses along the smaller man’s spine.

 “Now is not the time for introduction. I will introduce myself properly _after_ he has had suitable rest,” snorts Vincent and if the human had been looking, he would have seen the crimson-eyed glare aimed at Chaos. “Seriously…get off of him and let him rest.”

 “Do you want me to stop, love?” Asks Chaos while he snakes a hand around Sephiroth’s overstimulated manhood. His thumb teases the slit as the rest of his fingers squeeze the organ tightly in a makeshift sheathe. A pleasurable laugh rumbles in his chest when the male beneath him bucks wildly underneath him. The dragon lord leans over him again, biting and licking at his ear as he inquires once more, “Should I stop, baby? Do you want me to pull out of your beautiful, pliant body and… _leave you alone_?”

 “No, d-don’t stop,” begs the green-eyed male as he grinds back frenziedly against the larger man. He’s exhausted and sore, yes, but he’s unbearably aroused and desperately craves his release. At this point, he doesn’t care if Vincent stays and watches, or if the entire clan comes to watch. All he wants right now is Chaos to fuck him until he comes, passes out, or dies.

 “I am serious, brother. After this, let him rest,” growls a displeased sounding Vincent.

 Chaos sighs, but relents. He finds it exceedingly annoying, but pretty much impossible not to cave into his insistent brother. “I promise, little brother. After this round, he will be sleeping like a baby.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 When Sephiroth wakes up several hours later, he feels so good and so refreshed that he doesn’t move for several long minutes. After a while, his muscles protest so he sits up, rolling his shoulders and stretching the rest of his muscles. The silver-haired man feels like plopping back down in the furs, but he doesn’t. He already can tell he’s slept for more than 8 hours and being lazy is something he was trained not to be.

As if slapped, the events of the night prior floods his hazy brain and he can feel his face flush scarlet, yet it is not from shame. Remembering the marathon sex, he looks down at his naked body and is surprised that he’s…cleaner than _before_ the sex and there’s no telltale marks anywhere that he can see. Wriggling around a bit, his nether regions barely feel sore at all. Sephiroth knows that what he went through, he should be too sore to move, but he isn’t.

 This isn’t what he had expected at all when Chaos had taken his hand and had led him deep underground along with Sephiroth’s soldiers. The dragon lord had greatly insisted that Zack and the other knights should rest for at least a day and promised the horses would be cared for. They were conscious as they were led into a hidden cave. Once inside the cave, Chaos had led them through many confusing channels deep underground. The air was fresh and plenty, and it was cool and lit by stones that glowed brightly. Chaos had personally escorted Sephiroth’s men to a large chamber filled with multiple beds covered in furs and a couple servants waiting with food and drink as if they had been previously instructed that guests would arrive. He left the men in the care of the servants and promised Sephiroth that he would be able to see them off the next day. Curious and overwhelmed by this new world and people, Sephiroth had merely nodded and followed the dragon lord through the caves. The entire time traveling, Chaos had never released the Knight Commander’s hand as if he feared the human would bolt the first chance he got.

 What happened next was pretty hazy since it had happened all too fast. One moment they were walking, and the next he was pulled into private bedroom chambers and pushed against the wall with a searing hot mouth crushed against his own. Sephiroth had been too stunned to react to that bruising mouth and those burning hands and before he had known it, Chaos had somehow ripped away his armor and leathers. Maybe he had sensed Sephiroth’s lack of experience because he had laid him down and had taken his time kissing, licking, touching, and carefully prepping him for what Sephiroth supposed was the consummation of their, eh, _mating_. Come to think about it, it had not been entirely consensual on Sephiroth’s part since he had not given verbal permission, yet he had not protested either. He had allowed it to happen and even had enjoyed it more than he would ever dare admit to anyone.

 Sephiroth’s face blushes an even deeper red and he bites his plump bottom lip as he recalls the feeling of Chaos breaching him for the first time. It had been the first time he had ever been with a man, let alone anyone, really. For some reason, he had never felt sexually attracted to women or to anyone really, until he had met the Black Dragon Lord.

 A deep, warm chuckle alerts him of another presence so that he whips his head around wildly to pinpoint the location of the person. To his surprise, Chaos is lying on his side just a foot or so away from him. His chin is resting in his hand while he watches his human mate with mirth in his golden eyes.

 “Good morning, sunshine…or should I say, afternoon. You slept a long time,” greets Chaos before he crawls over to Sephiroth and pulls him close so that their naked skin is touching. His hand cradles the back of the human’s neck while he kisses him deeply. He smiles into the kiss when he hears Sephiroth moaning into the kiss. This isn’t the first time they’ve kissed since he’d devoured the human’s mouth for hours the night before. Kissing wasn’t something he had typically enjoyed before, but the moment his mouth had touched Sephiroth’s, he found he greatly enjoyed kissing him. It was addictive, really, and the only reason he ever stopped in the first place was so they could both breathe.

 “Oh, give me a break,” mumbles a somewhat familiar monotonous voice.

 Chaos sighs, breaking the kiss, but doesn’t allow his silver-haired mate to escape his grasp. He cocks his head to the side and stares expectantly at his younger brother. A lazy grin spreads on his face as he says, “So much tension, brother. Maybe you should…let some of it _out_.”

 Vincent rolls his eyes and sighs. “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

 The inquisitive green-eyed man twists around in Chaos’ arms so he can finally get a good look at the brother called Vincent. He’s surprised to learn that Chaos’ brother is not just his brother, he’s his _twin_ brother. Vincent looks almost completely identical to Chaos except for the fact that he is an inch or two shorter and his fit body is lighter and a few sizes smaller compared to his older brother. He’s still darker compared to Sephiroth, but so far the few dragon people he’s glimpsed so far seem to usually have darker hair and complexions like Chaos.

 Like Chaos, Vincent’s body bears numerous scars and several tattoos, but unlike Chaos’ tattoos, Vincent’s tats are red like his metallic crimson eyes, not black. He also only wears a crimson loin cloth that doesn’t hang off his hips as much as Chaos’ own does and a crimson bandana that covers a good portion of his forehead but doesn’t seem to hold back much of his unruly, long black hair that seems to spill everywhere like dark tendrils reaching for something, anything. A good portion of his face is hidden by hair that refuses to be tamed in any way. Like his older brother, he has similar horns except his left horn is missing half like it had been violently broken or burned off by something. His left arm is covered by what appears to be a golden gauntlet with claws. Very little of that arm is exposed and he wonders just **what** the dragon is hiding underneath it. It’s difficult to discern what might have happened to cause such injuries to the smaller dragon lord whether it was from battle or a really bad accident. It’s obvious to the soldier that like Chaos, Vincent is a powerful warrior and most likely bears the marks of battle like his brother even if Vincent’s own old injuries look to have been much worse.

 Once the crimson-eyed dragon lord feels Sephiroth has had enough time to gawk at him, he bows his head slowly and says, “I am Vincent, brother to this insatiable idiot.”

 Sephiroth doesn’t know what to say. It’s kind of awkward being introduced to someone while he’s buck naked with an equally naked man attached to him, gnawing on his neck. So he opts to just bow his head in return.

 “Get dressed, Chaos. We have matters to attend to _all day_ ,” instructs Vincent, making sure to place special emphasis on the last part of his sentence. He then tosses his brother a couple sets of black leather loin cloths. When his big brother doesn’t budge, he closes his eyes for a moment in an effort to control himself. Normally, he is very calm and collected, but his brother, oh, his brother can make him snap unlike any other. Most people don’t get to witness such an event and he prefers to keep it that way.

 There’s a red and black blur that’s so quick Sephiroth barely sees it before he feels long, nimble fingers wrapping around his wrist and effectively yanking him away from Chaos. Next thing he knows; he finds himself behind the younger dragon lord right before his wrist is released. A feeling similar to what he had experienced the night before when Chaos had first touched his gloved hand shoots through his blood like lightning. This time, the feeling is even more intense, but it could be because this time, it’s skin on skin contact.

 Chaos smirks in victory at his little brother. He then stretches languidly before he rolls over onto his feet and quickly dresses so that his genitals are no longer exposed.

 “Do not look so pleased with yourself,” scoffs the younger twin. He doesn’t show it, but he’s irritated that his brother has tricked him into touching the silver-haired man.

 Sephiroth is only paying half attention to their exchange since he’s distracted by the sight of red and black scales that line the back of his arms, legs, and his spine. He’s tempted to reach out and touch the scales, but refrains from doing so out of respect. He’s not sure if Vincent wants him to touch him, so he decides to stay on the safe side. Unlike Chaos, Vincent seems more somber and standoffish. He’s not sure whether he likes that or not.

 Chaos snickers, “You cannot avoid it forever, little brother.”

 “I will be waiting outside. You both have five minutes. If you are not out within that time…” Trails off Vincent with the edge of a threat in his tone. He nods to Sephiroth before he departs from the chambers.

 Chaos strides over to the still nude Sephiroth and slowly gazes down at his naked form. He holds the second loin cloth in his hands. “Unfortunately, we cannot have you walking around outside our chambers in the buff. I will show you how to put it on, love.”

The dragon lord slowly places the loin cloth around the slighter male’s hips and takes the part that holds the genitals in and wraps it over his mate’s privates and then clasps it so that it holds. He purposely dresses him slowly so the other male will know how to dress himself. Once he’s finished, he steps back and regards his handwork with pride. “Very sexy. We will have to get you some jewelry…and eventually some nice tattoos…”

 “I cannot wear _this_ ,” groans Sephiroth as he stares down at what he’s wearing. He catches what Chaos says and he’s not so sure he wants be tattooed and pierced. Then again, he never thought he’d enjoy being fucked by a man, so maybe he might not mind being decorated so much like these dragons.

 “We all wear this, love. You are a part of our clan now and as such, you must assimilate…to a certain degree. You _accepted_ , remember?” States Chaos as he moves closer, sliding his hands up over the paler man’s thighs until his big hands rest on Sephiroth’s hips. His golden eyes look into his mate’s green eyes and he adds, “It is too late to back out now. Do you regret your choice now?”

 Sephiroth tears his eyes away and thinks about what he should say. Does he regret this? True, he has not expected things to turn out the way they have, but as a soldier, or should he say, an ex-soldier, he had already known that things don’t always go as planned. This world is just so new and alien to him that he finds it difficult to take it all in. Before the night prior, he had not known dragons were actually people. So little is known about the dragon race that most of what humans seem to know is mere speculation or myth. Now he has the chance to learn about their culture and to find out how much of the rumors are actually true. Things might be strange for him now, but perhaps he will get used to everything in time. He believes that he will since he’s always been a very analytical, adaptive person.

 If he had not gone in Aerith’s stead, she would have been subjected to _this_. It isn’t necessarily a horrible fate, but he feels that no Lady should be treated as such. She doesn’t deserve such an outcome and he is thankful she has been spared. He loves her unconditionally more than he has ever loved anyone before. The thought of her being mated to _two_ men and fucked like a…well, it doesn’t matter anymore. The point is, this is his life now and as odd and overwhelming as it feels at the moment, he doesn’t regret his choice. So no, he doesn’t regret a thing.

 “No, I regret nothing,” Sephiroth answers right as he meets the taller male’s gaze again and holds it to prove his determination and honesty.

 Something flickers in Chaos’ eyes, but it’s gone before Sephiroth can properly examine it. The raven-haired man smiles down at him and then leans down to kiss him chastely on the forehead. The black dragon pulls back and allows his hands to drop from his lovely mate’s hips. “We should go before my brother has another shit fit.”

 Suddenly Sephiroth remembers Zack so he grabs Chaos by his shoulder to prevent him from turning away. “Wait…will I get to see Zack and the others before I leave?”

 “Of course. I am certain Vincent has someone to escort you for the day.”

 “Escort me?”

 Chaos nods curtly. “Someone will show you around and maybe meet some people here and there. I do not expect you to memorize everything within a day, but we both feel you need someone to guide you. I would, but I am needed elsewhere for the day.”

 Sephiroth doesn’t seem quite convinced by that, so the dragon sighs and explains further, “Our world can be confusing, and not everyone here is as honest and chivalrous as they should be. Until you know your way, I want someone around to protect you. Most of the time, it will be either me or Vincent, you have my word on that.”

 “I can handle myself,” states Sephiroth as he crosses his arms. He almost feels insulted by this, yet at the same time, a part of him feels flattered that someone wants to be his protector for once. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him to the point he’s not sure if he can ever accept such a thing.

 “I can tell, but even the most seasoned warrior can be caught unawares. Vincent is proof of **that** ,” reveals Chaos as something dark passes through his gold eyes as if he’s remembering a vile event. He does not go into further detail and the silver-haired man wisely doesn’t press him for more information. If he or Vincent ever decide to entrust something so personal, he will let them, but he will not overstep his boundaries. Some things are not meant to be divulged, he knows.

 “Come now. I can hear him pacing like a _Displacer Beast_ out there,” sighs Chaos as he turns away and starts to lead his mate towards his chamber doors.

 Sephiroth follows him silently, feeling a bit awkward as he feels the leather caress his bare skin. This might take some time getting used to.

 Once they are outside the bedchambers, Vincent stops pacing to regard the both of them. His gaze lingers on Sephiroth longer than necessary before it flicks back over to his brother. He then huffs, “Finally…I was about to barge in there and drag you out by your hair, brother. You are always so damn late.”

 With a wink at Sephiroth, the older twin says, “You can’t rush love.”

 “I _S THIS **HIM**?!_ ” Squeals a high-pitched female voice that is so loud, Sephiroth winces as he takes a step back.

 Vincent seems to share Sephiroth’s displeasure at the sound of that screeching, too. “Lower your voice, Yuffie. And yes, this is him. His name is Sephiroth.”

 The banshee known as Yuffie seems unfazed by everyone’s discontentment. The short, small, yet tough-looking female launches herself at Vincent’s arm and clings to it. She grins up at him before switching her attention to the silver-haired man. “Wowie, he’s really hot! You boys bagged yourself a babe!”

 “Excuse me?” Sniffs Sephiroth, who is clearly taken aback by this weird girl. He narrows his eyes at the familiar way she addresses the twins and something in his stomach churns uncomfortably. It feels suspiciously like jealousy. He doesn’t understand why, but he doesn’t like her touching Vincent. He hardly knows the dragon lord brothers, especially the younger one, yet the idea of them touching someone else irks him. The ex-Knight Commander doesn’t know the rules or etiquette in this new world. For all he knows, since he’s being… _shared_ by two brothers, it’s highly probable that they have other mates or concubines. He remembers all the women King Gast has in his own personal harem. It’s likely that Chaos and Vincent have their own harem, too. The thought makes him grit his teeth and clench his hands into tight fists.

 “This is our cousin Yuffie. She will be your escort for the day,” explains Chaos as if sensing his mate’s unrest. He slides an arm around Sephiroth’s waist, pulling him close to him. Leaning over, he whispers, “Don’t be jealous, love. Tonight I will _demonstrate_ just how much I appreciate you.”

 Before Sephiroth can respond or Chaos can molest him further, Vincent squeezes in-between the pair of males. He none too gently shoves his brother away from the green-eyed man while keeping a firm, yet gentle hand on the small of Sephiroth’s back as if to prevent him from stumbling. Once satisfied that they are safely parted, his hand drops from the shorter male’s back, but he doesn’t move away. Vincent continues to stand between his brother and their mate as if he doesn’t trust Chaos to control himself. It’s obvious to Sephiroth that even though Chaos is physically stronger and more powerful than Vincent, Vincent is the more dominant, intelligent brother.

 Yuffie pouts as if she thinks Vincent has ruined something good. She thankfully doesn’t say anything, but Sephiroth is sure that will change quickly. The girl, their cousin, doesn’t seem like the type to remain quiet for long. Which brings him back to his earlier issue. Cousin, huh. So that means she’s not one of their, eh, consorts. That doesn’t mean that they don’t have any, but at least he doesn’t have to spend his entire day with one of _them_. If they do have other men and women on the side, Sephiroth doesn’t think he wants to know and he definitely doesn’t want to be around their other lovers. However, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to know about some things. There are questions in his head he wants answered, no, _needs_ answered. After all, if he is to live here and assimilate, then there is precious information he needs to attain in order to do just that.

 This doesn’t seem like such a bad idea, now that he thinks about it. He is curious about their world, the twins, and his role here. The ex-Knight will have to tread carefully, though, since he doesn’t know this girl so that his questioning will have to be on the subtler side. Perhaps if gets to know her better and she begins trusting him, he can acquire deeper answers to personal questions.

 All three of them stare expectantly at him as if waiting for something to happen, so he waves his hand slowly as he utters, “Uh…hi.”

 The female dragon’s eyes widen and she squeals happily as if he has just revealed that he is pregnant or something. She throws herself at him, arms and legs wrapped around him in such an improper, unlady-like fashion. He stands there stiffly, arms glued to his sides at a loss as to what he should do.

 “Go easy on him, Yuff,” laughs Chaos who doesn’t look the least bit bothered by his cousin’s indecent behavior.

 Vincent says nothing, but snorts while he shoots his brother an accusing glare as if he’s still miffed by his twin’s voracious behavior not that long ago. He sighs, running a hand through his wild hair. “Come along now, brother. The sooner we go; the sooner we will return.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 As Yuffie leads Sephiroth through the complex passages, he takes a few minutes to study her without being too obvious about it. The girl is short and small, but he can see some power in her petite build. Her hair and complexion is on the darker side like her cousins’ and now without all the distraction, he can see some resemblance of Chaos and Vincent in the girl. There’s not a whole lot of resemblance, really, but just enough that one could tell she is a blood relative. Like her cousins, she bears many piercings and tribal like tattoos that are possibly symbols of a language he’s never seen before. Like Vincent, she wears something over her forehead and underneath her short, dark hair. It’s black and he would later find out it’s called a hachimaki. The tied tails of the hachimaki sticks out behind her as if having a mind of its own. And like her cousins, she wears a loin cloth which looks to be a light golden yellow cloth. Blue strap-like cloth crisscrosses over her chest and over her shoulders and is clasped at the back. The blue cloth barely covers her nipples and really all it seems to do is prevent her small breasts from sagging. He tries not to stare since it’s rude and he’s not exactly used to seeing women dressed so…immodestly. So he does his best to glance at her from the corner of his eye without lingering too long on her feminine curves.

 Another thing he notices is that her horns are smaller in comparison to the twins’ horns and seem to protrude from the upper part of her forehead. He is also able to catch glimpses of dark, shiny scales that trail along her spine and the backs of her arms and legs.

 When the dragon girl finally is able to lock eyes with Sephiroth, he notices her eyes for the first time. Her eyes are a metallic black with a certain brightness to them that makes him feel that he can possibly come to like her even though she’s a little on the annoying side. Something about her reminds him of the Princess and already he feels a compulsive urge to protect this female dragon. 

 “Oh, boy, this is a wonder. I wasn’t expecting this at all,” exclaims Yuffie as she walks with her arms behind her head. Her dark eyes watch Sephiroth curiously and seem to linger on his hair possibly? He’s not sure, but he can tell she’s staring at something specific.

 A thin, silver eyebrow arches. “Just what are you getting at?”

 “Um, well…you see, we were all expecting a _human_ ,” begins the short-haired girl as if uncertain how to voice her thoughts.

 “I am human,” deadpans Sephiroth, narrowing his intense jade eyes at the girl.

 Yuffie suddenly laughs and pats him on the arm. “Yeah, yeah, half maybe, but you’re definitely not completely human! That’s not a bad thing or anything, really, just…unexpected. Especially considering what Vinnie went through 500 years ago…”

 “Wait a minute,” starts Sephiroth while he abruptly stops walking and grabs the girl to halt her movement as well. He turns her towards him so he can have her undivided attention. “What do you mean I’m not completely human and what is this about Vincent being half a millennium old?!”

 Yuffie doesn’t seem too bothered by the big, long-fingered hands gripping her shoulders. She shrugs despite the heavy weight of his hands. “You are obviously half elf, or quarter elf, by the looks of your ears. You also have an ethereal glow and COME. ON. You are way too beautiful to be a human man! I mean, just look at you! You make human women look like trolls, Seph! And as for Vincent, well, he’s only like 2000 years old, give or take. We dragons tend to mature at around 1000 years old. Chaos and Vincent are actually still relatively young for dragons and guess what, they’re the youngest leaders our clan has ever had! They’re definitely better lords compared to the previous lord. He was a real douche and nearly drove us to ruin, the big dick. Glad he’s dead.”

 Yuffie glares at the ground as she spits at it as if thinking about the deceased man she has just mentioned.

 Sephiroth’s hands drop from her shoulders and he steps back. The age thing is impressive and she’s probably telling the truth about that, but he finds it difficult to believe that he’s half-elf. He can’t be. He’s human like Aerith and Zack and Cloud…

 Or at least, that’s what he always tells himself time and time again.

 The female dragon slips her hand in his much larger one and pulls him after her as she begins walking again. She seems to know he doesn’t believe her since she declares, “Calm your tits, man, I’ll show ya what I’m talking about!”

 Several minutes later of Yuffie chattering about this and that, Sephiroth finds himself escorted into what looks like small bathing chambers for up to maybe five people or so. There’s a large pool of warm, bubbling water that looks suspiciously like hot springs. Furniture is strategically placed throughout the bathing chambers to either store clothing and towels or to serve as something to sit on. All in all, the room is very cozy and comforting to be in. Confused as to why she’s led him here of all places, he turns to face the girl when he happens to catch a glimpse of himself in some mirrors mounted on walls. He ceases all movement in favor of gawking at what cannot be. Minutes pass before he urges his muscles to carry him closer to the mirrors. Once he’s close enough, he gapes at his ears, which appear to be pointed like an elf’s. He’s crossed paths with elves here and there enough to know what they look like. His ears aren’t as long or as pointy as a typical elf’s ear; however, as he traces the pointy part of his ear with his fingers, he cannot deny that he isn’t completely human. He even looks like an elf with his long, perfect silver hair and smooth, hairless face and body. His father is human, he knows, but his mother…must have been an elf. He had never known her and no one had ever been willing to tell him what he craved to know. Of what he still craves to know.

 Sephiroth sighs as he drops his hand from his ear. So _this_ was what Yuffie had been staring at earlier.  This is why he is stronger than any human he’s ever fought or has known as a comrade. This is why he’s always been different and why people are in awe of him. And this is why he has never felt he truly belonged in the world of humans.

 But wait…if this is all true, how come he’s just noticing this _now_? How come no one else until now has noticed?

 “It’s real, trust me,” confirms the short-haired girl as she watches him from her spot leaning against the wall near the door.

 “How come I am seeing this now? Granted, I do not spend much time in front of mirrors, but I would have still noticed this. Others would have, too!”

 “I’m guessing someone placed a charm or some other type of glamour to disguise that part of you. Maybe it was your elven parent?” Suggested Yuffie.

 “I never knew my mother,” admits a pained Sephiroth. His thoughts are once more consumed about where his mother is, and if she is even still alive. And if so, why did she abandon him? Why had she not wanted him? Is it because of what he is, of who his father is?

 “Your father is the King, isn’t he,” guesses the female dragon.

 Sephiroth freezes once more before turning his wide-eyed gaze to the girl. Once more, he probably looks like that damned doe. “How…do you know that?” He asks before he can stop himself and suddenly he feels as if he has just made a grave error.

 “OH. MY. GODDESS. YOU’RE SERIOUS!?” Shrieks Yuffie as she jumps up impossibly high in shock before she launches herself at the silver-haired man. She looks sheepishly up at him as she clings to him in wonder. “I…didn’t exactly know. I guessed. I mean, I was told you were special and used to protect that human Princess Arwen…”

 “Aerith. Her name is Aerith,” corrects Sephiroth with a sigh. An icy feeling slowly spreads through him at the thought of his half-sister. He looks back down at the female dragon and inquires almost fearfully in a voice barely above a whisper, “Chaos…and Vincent…do they know about this? If you guessed it…then…”

 Yuffie shrugs nonchalantly. “I dunno. Couldn’t tell ya. I don’t see why it matters?”

 “Please, if they do not know, do not tell them.”

 The dark-haired girl wrinkles her nose. “Why?

 “I know you do not know me, but could you just…keep this between us for now?”

 “So this is a big secret, huh? Why the secrecy?”

 “I am the King’s bastard son. If anyone were to find out, they would use this information against him and against her. I was spared from death by my father and in return, I became one of his Knights. I was taught how to fight in battle and how to protect. It became my duty to protect the Princess, my sister’s life, at all times.”

 Yuffie felt terrible for saying this, but she knew it was possibly true. “The King could just turn a blind eye if someone captured you and tried to use you as collateral.”

 “Yes, he could, but…she could not. Aerith…is very fond of me. She loves me more than I’m comfortable admitting right now. If someone were to find out _what_ I am to her, they would use that against her, and she would comply. That girl has a heart bigger than this world and I know, I know her so well,” explains Sephiroth with a wistful look in his eyes followed by a pained smile. “You should have seen her when she heard I was to take her place as the Sacrifice. She looked…just like that day when she had found out her mother had been slain. They had to cast a spell to sedate her so she wouldn’t hurt herself. In the end, they had to lock her up to make sure she did not follow me since no one was sure who she loved more, her kingdom, or me. Even now, I am not so certain.”

 “Wait, so you and the Princess…are an _item_?!” Screeches Yuffie again completely allowing everything else in his admission to fly over her head. 

 Sephiroth slaps a hand over her mouth to keep her from screaming again. “Do not be so loud! Someone might hear you…but no, we are not an ‘item’ and never have been.”

 “I really don’t think my cousins would abuse such knowledge, but okay then I’ll keep my mouth shut for now…as long as you tell them eventually,” relents Yuffie with a long sigh after she had shoved the half-elf’s hand away from her mouth.

 “Thank you, Yuffie. You have my word.”

 “I’m still surprised my cousins decided to take you as their mate considering what happened to Vincent not that long ago,” ponders Yuffie out loud. This is the second time she’s alluded to something personal that has happened to her cousin.

 Sephiroth notices this, of course. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “What happened to Vincent?”

 Yuffie’s face flushes a deep red once she realizes her mistake. She curses under her breath as she wrings her small hands together. “Er…well…I can’t really say. If Vinnie finds out I even _mentioned_ that, he’ll kill me.”

 “You mentioned it _twice_ ,” points out Sephiroth in an unamused voice.

 “I know and I am sorry. I didn’t mean to. This is probably why he doesn’t tell me anything,” sighs the female dragon. She once more looks up at the tall male guiltily. “If it makes you feel better, I think you will find out in time. I think he will tell you…eventually.”

 “Think so, do you?”

 Yuffie chews her lip. “Maybe. Possibly. Who knows? Only time will tell.”

 “Very well. Let’s just…drop this for now,” proposes the silver-haired male. The longer they gossip in here, the longer it will be before he gets to see Zack and his men. If he stays in here all day, he might possibly miss seeing them off. “Before you show me around, would you mind taking me to my comrades so I can see them off?”

 “Sure thing, Seph.”

 As the pair departs from the bathing chambers, Yuffie leans in close and whispers loudly, “You won’t tell Vin about my little slip-up, will ya?”

 “I won’t tell if you won’t tell,” promises Sephiroth with a smirk.

 Yuffie sticks out her tongue at him. “Jerk.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 “Seph!” Cries Zack before throwing himself unceremoniously at his friend. Yes, his friend. Sephiroth is no longer his Commander, but he will always be his friend. Pure joy lights up the spiky-haired man’s face as he releases the stiff ex-Knight from his embrace, but keeps his hands clasped to the taller male’s forearms in a gesture of great respect and love reserved only for friends.

 The other soldiers crowd around, clapping their former Commander on the shoulder. They look well fed and rested and upon seeing Sephiroth safe and unharmed, they finally relax. Sensing their new Knight Commander and previous one needed some time alone, the Knights wish Sephiroth well before returning to their seats to finish their generous lunch. Some of the men are sitting beside various male and female dragons striking up conversation. It’s obvious both races are curious about the other and upon watching them, Sephiroth finally feels as if this might work. Perhaps over time, these new allies to Midgar can become more than just allies. Maybe they could learn from one another and build stronger foundations over time. He is probably only thinking wishful thoughts and should really know better. A handful of people can get along just fine under good circumstances, yet to expect the entire population, especially under different circumstances, to get along and thrive, is not realistic.

 “They are a lot to take in at first, but I think they’re good people,” remarks Zack as he stands beside his friend watching his soldiers interact with the dragons.

 Sephiroth nods in agreement. So far these dragons have given him little room to doubt their sincerity. “How are the men? They look well compared to yesterday.”

 “They were just worried about you, is all,” replies Zack with a half-smile, not voicing his last thought: _Like me._

“I see.”

 “Hey, where did that loud, cute girl that was with you go?” Suddenly asks the younger man as he glances around trying to pinpoint her exact location.

 Loud is an understatement, Sephiroth thinks. “She will be back after breakfast is finished. I think she wanted to give me some privacy with you.”

 “That’s mighty nice of her,” comments the blue-eyed man. He then leans closer to Sephiroth and whispers, “Hey, do you think she’s single?”

 Sephiroth sighs, “Zack…”

 Zack looks at his friend and is about to joke around further with him when he suddenly notices something he didn’t notice before. He points out, “You…you are _glowing_ …”

 The silver-haired man follows Zack’s eyes down to his exposed skin. “You have not seen me this…well, undressed before and I am wearing black. Your eyes are fooling you.”

 “No, no…you’re definitely glowing. Like an elf,” disagrees Zack as he takes the time to take a closer look at his taller companion. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for until he notices the sharp, fleshy points poking out from his long hair.  

 Sephiroth keeps his eyes trained elsewhere, refusing to meet his friend’s gaze. He is still sensitive about the irrefutable truth that indeed proves he is a half-elf, a _half-breed_. Despite Yuffie claiming there is nothing wrong with what he is, he’s not so sure she’s right. Just because she is fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else will be. After all, she has already implied that her twin brothers, namely Vincent, have an issue with elves. Do they know what he is? Or did this charm, hex, spell or whatever it had been, wear off _after_ Yuffie had led him away? He had forgotten to get her to clarify that whether or not her cousins were aware of him being half-elf. After all, Vincent doesn’t seem particularly interested in him and the few times he’s been in the younger twin’s presence; it always seems like Vincent wants to bolt away from him the first chance he gets.

 He can feel the younger man’s eyes on him as Zack states, “So it’s true, then.”

 “So it appears.”

 “That explains a lot, actually. It sure explains how you can lay waste to multiple trained soldiers without breaking a sweat.” Zack grins widely at him and when Sephiroth finally meets the younger male’s eyes, he sees that despite this new truth, nothing has changed. Zack still accepts and respects him in spite of everything. He doesn’t know what to say about that and isn’t sure he can trust his voice not to crack at the moment since he can feel an overabundance of moisture welling up in his eyes.

 “Aerith is going to be overjoyed,” says Zack as he pulls Sephiroth over to the nearest available table. He fills up his plate and begins eating in earnest since he knows this will probably be the last decent meal he and his fellow Knights will get until they are safely back home in Midgar.

 Sephiroth says nothing as he imagines his half-sister tending to her beautiful private garden that she has always insisted on caring for by herself. It is the one place she feels safest and at peace, he knows. He can picture her singing to her flowers softly as she waters and clips them. Her green eyes, so much like his own, are sad as she smiles bitterly. When her mother had passed, he had taken to keeping a closer watch on her. He remembers watching her for hours in her secret refuge. From his position, he could still clearly make out the sorrow drenched in her kind eyes and the way her pink lips would twist. She had been trying so hard to remain strong since she knew he was there, watching her like he always did. At some point, her false strength had finally caved in and she had collapsed in her garden, sobbing uncontrollably. Although he was uncomfortable to witness such an act, he acted without thinking. In mere moments, he had swept down and pulled her delicate body against his own, much larger one. Aerith had cried for hours against his chest as he had rocked her in his arms and stroked her braided hair. Eventually, the girl had calmed down enough until she had fallen asleep curled against him.

 After that day, Aerith had become strong once more. Although there was still a sadness lingering in her beautiful eyes, her smile was real and bright again like a star on a dark night.

 “Yes, she will be,” agrees Sephiroth as he picks up a piece of fruit and begins to finally eat after several days without food. The worry seeped in his soul for his sister has lessened some and over time, it may diminish completely. For now, he can sit with Zack and for a little while, pretend nothing has changed.

 

 

  ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for now, folks. CH03 should be written and posted within a week. As always, I hope you enjoyed and please tell me your thoughts. :3


	3. Initiation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware more smut…near the end.

 

Seeing Zack and the rest of the company off isn’t nearly as difficult as Sephiroth initially thought it would be. He stands ramrod straight in the forest in the same area they had all waited for Chaos to appear the day before. The same exact place Chaos had ‘proposed’ and Sephiroth had knelt down on bent knee.

 It has only been a day since that meeting and to the silver-haired ex-Knight, it feels like it’s been _years_. He feels like he’s on the other side of the painting, just under the glass for the viewer to see him and to walk away.

 Each Knight grips the hilt of his own sword against his chest over his heart as he touches Sephiroth farewell on the shoulder until the last one standing facing him is Zack.

 The black-haired man stands stock still, his blue eyes shining with unshed emotion as he stares at the ex-Knight Commander. They stand staring at each other for several long minutes in a lingering silence not because they had no words to say, but because they didn’t want to part.

 The sound of men mounting their horses and impatient hooves clopping at the dirt breaks them out of their self-induced stupors.

 “Take care of her, Zack,” quietly intones Sephiroth in his version of farewell. This moment is too real that it leaves him feeling numb inside. In just a few minutes, he knows that everything connecting him to his past life will be gone and out of reach. Possibly forever.

 Zack surges forward, flinging both arms around the taller man. He embraces him tight and hard like a brother would. He smiles when he feels Sephiroth’s arms embrace him back just as tightly. The shorter man cannot stop the lone tear that breaks free and rolls down his left cheek. The dark-haired man is suddenly glad that his back is facing his men so that they cannot see his fleeting weakness. Their moment passes too quickly for the both of them as their arms loosen and drop away from one another.

 Sephiroth quickly wipes away Zack’s tear like a big brother would for his little brother. “Whatever you do, do not let the men see you cry, Ser Zachary Fair. You are their Knight Commander now and you must be strong, always.”

 “If I can be at least half as strong as you, I will be happy,” admits Zack with a wide, yet cracking smile.

 The silver-haired male shakes his head as he clasps a firm hand to his friend’s shoulder. “No, Zack, do not settle for less. Be stronger than me. I know you can be. It is within you even if you cannot yet see it.”

 Zack looks away while he locks those words away in his mind and heart. If he is to remember anything Sephiroth has ever said, this is the one thing he wants to remember always. His chest is so full from sorrow and love he fears it may burst.

 “It’s no wonder why she loves you,” breathes Zack in awe and regret as if he’s lost something he never truly had.

 Sephiroth half-smiles. “Of course she loves me. Everyone knows that.”

 “ _If you only knew_ …” Whispers Zack before he turns away and marches over to his horse. He takes the reins that are held out to him by a fellow soldier and then he climbs atop his mount. With a salute to Sephiroth, he rears his horse up and rides off in the direction of Midgar with his men riding close behind him in formation.

  _Only knew what?_ He thinks to himself as he watches the horses galloping away, sending dirt and grass flying everywhere. He’s confused by what the dark-haired solider has implied by those cryptic words and even more confused by Zack’s sudden strange body language. What is it that he’s missing? He shakes his head as if to dispel his maddening thoughts. It doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone he knows and loves is far out of reach from him now.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Was that your lover?” Asks Yuffie in her signature blaring voice as they begin trekking back to the caves.

 Even though it isn’t true, he still doesn’t feel like such a thing is her business. However, he knows if he doesn’t deny it, she’s probably going to go blabbing to her cousins. He doesn’t know if they will care about such a thing, but he really isn’t in the mood to risk it. Sephiroth doesn’t know any of them very well so he feels it is wise to tread carefully. Last thing he needs is a _broken_ back and Zack being hunted down like an animal.

 “No…he was, _is_ , my friend,” states the half-elf, hoping she will make no other assumptions. Suddenly, he remembers something Zack has said to him, so he slowly looks to his right down at Yuffie and smirks, “…but he did tell me he thinks you are cute. He asked me if you were single, if I recall correctly.”

 “What?! Pffbt…crazy men. I already have a mate, so next time, tell your friend that!” Declares Yuffie with a bit of red dusting her tanned cheeks. It’s obvious she’s flattered, but tries to play it off as something else.

 “Mhm. Is your mate deaf, by any chance?”

 “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?!” Shrieks the female dragon as she latches onto the half-elf’s arm. She pulls at him and is daunted when he continues to walk as if he doesn’t have a girl dangling from his arm. “Hey! Stop walking for a minute!”

 Sephiroth immediately freezes on the spot, but not because of Yuffie. Up ahead, about fifteen feet or so, stands two men he’s never seen before in his life. The horns, tattoos, piercings, and loin cloths pretty much clue him in that they may be a part of this clan, but he refuses to presume as much. For all he knows, they could be members from a rival clan. So he remains still and watches as they advance towards him with confident, yet wary strides.

 “So is this _him_ …?” Jeers the shorter dragon male with the short red hair that barely reaches down to his chin. Metallic crystal-blue eyes glower brazenly at the silver-haired man as if he thinks he is trespassing. Something about him strikes Sephiroth as unduly cocky and it causes him to remember a handful of soldiers that once thought they could get one over on him because he was young and beautiful. Oh, how wrong they had been.

 The other male is tall and exceptionally big compared to the red-head and even looks as if he may be a bit taller than Chaos himself. His dark, slicked back hair is shoulder length with some braids and two bangs on each side of his stoic, handsome face. There is a strong, calm bearing about him that doesn’t raise Sephiroth’s hackles as much as the other one does. This one seems like an honorable, self-controlled warrior and he doesn’t think he’ll have any issues with the big dragon. He believes these thoughts even more when the large warrior’s metallic lake blue eyes look to Sephiroth, clearly regarding him with respect before he bows his head. A powerful arm thrusts to his left to cage the red-haired male from approaching any closer.

 “What are you guys doing out here?” Yuffie questions, her ostentatious voice laced with suspicion.

 “Playing escort for the _elf_ ,” scoffs the red-head as if he believes his time is being wasted.

 The larger man sighs heavily before he bows even more to Sephiroth, almost bending at the waist. His arm grabs his smaller companion and forces him to bow against his will. The large dragon’s deep voice says, “Forgive his impertinence, M’lord. I am Angeal, personal guard to Lord Chaos, and this impudent fool is Genesis, personal guard to Lord Vincent. We have been ordered to accompany you to ensure your safety.”

 Sephiroth bristles at the very notion that the twin lords even think that he needs protection. He’s not overconfident by any means, but he is confident enough to know he can handle himself well on the battlefield. He had been King Gast’s top ranking soldier and had rightfully earned that place with every drop of blood and sweat he had shed. Just because he had been married off like a princess doesn’t mean that it makes him one. Maybe they do not see it yet, but in time, he will prove to them all that he isn’t a dainty little flower.

 “That’s why I’m here! We don’t need you. So go away!” Yells the female dragon, shooting them a disparaging look.

 “Once we reach the caves, we will leave you both,” promises Angeal with an apologetic glance towards the girl. “But in the meantime, we are accompanying you. These are Lord Chaos’ orders…if you do not like them, tell him yourself.”

 Yuffie huffs, “Hmph, whatever.”

 “My Lord Sephiroth,” Starts Angeal and when he knows he has the half-elf’s undivided attention, he continues, “Because we are the personal guard of our lords, that now also includes you under our protection. It is an honor to protect them and now…it is an honor to protect you, as well. I, Angeal, swear an oath unto you that I will always do everything within my power to keep you safe and unharmed.”

 Angeal’s large, calloused hand swiftly smacks Genesis over the head when the red-head continues to glower in silence. With clenched teeth, he bites out, “I, Genesis, swear an oath unto thee, my Lord Sephiroth, to protect ye from all harm.”

 Sephiroth bows his head slightly to Angeal in reverence in spite of his own personal feelings about them being his protectors. He finds he likes Angeal so far even though he doesn’t like the idea of having a… _body guard_. The way Angeal had sworn to protect him reminds him so distinctly about the first day he had sworn to protect Aerith. He smiles wryly at how quickly he’s switched from Protector to Protected.

 “Okay boys, let’s get this over with,” sighs the female dragon as she snags Sephiroth’s arm and tugs him to get him moving again. Normally, he would protest, but he agrees with her on this so he just keeps his mouth shut as they continue their trek on the pathway through the forest.

 Genesis walks several feet ahead of them while Angeal walks several paces behind them. They’re both silent for the most part except for some annoyed mumbling on the red-head’s part. Sephiroth chooses to ignore him in favor of attempting to memorize his surroundings just in case they get separated. He fully intends to learn the entire layout of the caves and a good portion of the forest. A part of him feels impatient and wants to learn everything faster than he is able to. Realistically, he knows he has to take it slow so that he doesn’t overload his brain. The last thing he needs is mental instability since such a thing might cause him to snap and hurt people unintentionally.

 What feels like hours, but in reality is just around ten minutes, passes before they reach one of the numerous hidden entrances to the caves. As they part from the body guards, Sephiroth catches Angeal bowing his head to him again before he turns away to go back to whatever other duties he surely has. He also doesn’t miss the nasty look Genesis shoots his way, but doesn’t feel that affected by it. His strength, power, and fame had issued him a lot of fans _and_ haters. Not to mention all the enemies he had faced that had branded him with uglier, more hateful looks of contempt. The red-head is nothing compared to them; however, Sephiroth is no fool and isn’t about to let his guard down around that dragon even though technically Genesis is supposed to be protecting him. He does remember Chaos telling him that not everyone in his clan would be kind and chivalrous.

 “ _Sheesh_ …Gen really has it out for you,” comments Yuffie as soon as they’re alone walking through the caves.

 “Why?” Asks Sephiroth as his eyes glance around doing his best to try to memorize the way. He doesn’t particularly care why Genesis seems to _loathe_ him, but as a soldier, he knows the more he knows about an enemy, the more of an advantage he will have. Despite the less than pleasant meeting, he doesn’t consider the red-haired dragon an enemy or a friend just yet. Still, it pays to know as much as he can about someone just in case they attempt to hurt or kill him. It’s partially why he’s trying to learn as much as he can about everyone and everything in this Black Dragon clan.

 “It’s not really a secret that Genesis is very… _fond_ of Vincent. I mean, he wants him really badly. So bad it’s kind of pathetic. It’s probably why he doesn’t like you since you’re now Vincent’s mate and equal. He’s never liked anyone that’s been with or has shown romantic or sexual intentions for my cousin,” explains the short-haired female as she hops over some random object someone had left behind on the ground.

 Sephiroth furrows his brow and frowns as he feels a familiar, yet very unwelcome clench in his chest and a queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Jealousy… _again_.

 “Did he and Vincent _ever_...?”

 Yuffie grins a bit once she realizes that the half-elf may be jealous. “As far as I know, nope! I know my cousin well and I really doubt he’d ever go for that guy. Vin would rather live an eternity in solitude than get with just anyone, you see. That and I know Chaos would intervene if his brother and Gen ever tried to become mates or even get it on.”

 “Why would Chaos care?” Inquires Sephiroth as he raises a brow. The pang in his chest and the nauseous feeling in his stomach starts ebbing away as relief slowly washes over him.

 “Because Chaos _abhors_ Genesis so, so much, but Vincent refuses to dismiss Genesis as his guard. Chaos doesn’t trust Genesis at all which is why he always has Angeal tag along with Gen since he’s very honorable and trustworthy. Not to mention ‘Geal is also very good at controlling his friend.”

 Sephiroth doesn’t bother to ask why Chaos isn’t fond of Vincent’s personal guard mostly because he can see why. Maybe Chaos has his own personal reasons as to why or he is just a perceptive person. Or both. Either way, more relief seeps into his being just knowing that he wouldn’t have to walk into their personal chambers to find Chaos or Vincent fucking Genesis. Even so, that doesn’t mean there wouldn’t be _others_ …

 “Yuffie, may I ask you something?”

 “Sure, almost anything. Shoot away!”

 The silver-haired ex-Knight Commander inhales and exhales deeply to prepare himself. Feelings…emotions…whatever one would refer to them as; isn’t something he’s ever been exceptionally good at. He is perceptive of people but when it comes to his own personal feelings or even the feelings of others, he draws a blank. After all, he was trained to kill, to protect. He wasn’t trained to fall in love or have a family of his own. Now that it’s in his mind, though, he is starting to long for those things. Yes, Aerith was always a big part of his life and he always secretly regarded her as family, and still does; however, he has never been able to experience such things out in the open. It has always been a secret that he has been forced to keep deep inside. Too few know his secret and he realizes now that keeping such a secret actually hurts. It’s frustrating to be a dirty secret that has to stay in the dark. He wants to be able to admit it, scream it even, who he loves and what they are to him. Sephiroth doesn’t know if he will ever find such love here, familial or _more_ , but if he does, he doesn’t want it to be a secret.

 “Do you know…if your cousins have…” Trails off Sephiroth in hesitation as he loses his boldness. His pale face flushes a deep crimson and he looks away in embarrassment. He isn’t a coward and never has been, so he doesn’t understand this reluctance to voice his thoughts.

 The female dragon seems to know what’s on his mind since she offers, “Side candy?”

 Sephiroth nods curtly having heard that phrase before from Zack a good number of times.

 Yuffie laughs long and loud then she grabs onto his arm and hangs off it. “You really are too cute!”

 “Well?”

 “Vincent…doesn’t do that. He’s a relationship guy and he hasn’t been with anyone since…that **_cunt_** …” Trails off Yuffie with a shake of her head. She sighs. “Anyway, Chaos… _loves_ sex and has been with many, many people, mostly **men** , but he has never had a mate before. He seems enamored with you, though and despite his wild nature, I really don’t think he’s going to screw around on you. When we dragons find our mates, we are monogamous. Plus Vince won’t let Chaos hurt you no matter what, I swear to you. But…if you don’t believe me, or should I say, if you have doubts…talk to them both.”

 The ex-Knight nods to her, but stays silent as he absorbs the information and dwells in his own thoughts. The two of them lapse in comfortable silence, or at least, it was comfortable to Sephiroth until the little woman breaks it. He knows better than to ignore her, or any woman, for the matter, so he listens quietly as they walk side by side. There’s something incredibly soothing about walking barefoot on smooth, cool stone ground. And yes, from the looks of it, these caves have been painstakingly worked, expanded, and polished. Occasionally, they come across beautiful paintings and perfectly sculpted statues of dragons, other races, and animals. So far, he is impressed and awed by this underground system of caves, but nothing prepares him at all for the moment when they enter a colossal cavern filled with what looks like a _city_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“ _This…is astounding_ ,” breathes Sephiroth as he stands near the entrance, his wide jade eyes slowly taking in the sight of many houses and what looks like shops. He even spots animals here and there, mostly cats, dogs, and some other exotic animals. There’s people everywhere going about their daily lives as if they aren’t located deep in a subterranean world. What dumbfounds him most is the various trees and plants he sees all over the place. He steps further into the cavern to get a better look while the girl follows him as if this place isn’t anything special. “Wait, Yuffie…how are plants growing _and_ thriving down here without sunlight?”

 The dark-eyed female has her arms crossed behind her head. She blinks quickly a few times and cocks her head as she stares curiously at him. “Hm? Oh…that. Right. Well, it’s simple. Magic. We are magical beings, just as you are. I mean, you can _summon_ a sword out of thin air! If you can do that, imagine what we can accomplish…”

 “I see,” says the half-elf as he slowly looks up towards the seemingly never-ending ceiling. He gasps when he notices that it looks…like a _sky_.

 “Come on, I want you to meet someone!” Yuffie explains, grabbing his hand and running like a demon possessed. For a girl so short, she sure can run astoundingly fast. Sephiroth almost has trouble keeping up with her as she whizzes past and weaves by people and other obstacles. When someone yells at her angrily, she turns while still running, and gives the man her middle finger instead of hollering at him. For that, Sephiroth is indeed grateful since she would have screeched into his ear.

 Fifteen minutes later or so, Yuffie slows down when they reach a large, nice-looking house with a yard, fence, and numerous trees and other plants here and there. There also appears to be a small pool, ( _or is it a lake?)_ In the yard along with some benches, tables, and various chairs.

 Yuffie beams proudly up at him as she gestures towards house. “This is my home.”

 “I am surprised it is still standing,” remarks Sephiroth with a playful smirk.

 “Oh, shut up, you!” Barks the raven-haired woman as she drags him past the gate, through the yard, and up the steps. She slams open the door and shouts, “ **CID, I’M HOME SO YOU BETTER HIDE THE WENCH YOU’RE CHEATING ON ME WITH!”**

 What’s follows is the funniest thing Sephiroth has witnessed all day. A man cries out in surprise followed by the sound of something crashing and breaking. Next comes the distinct sound of someone or something tumbling down what is probably stairs. Someone groans and then starts vehemently cursing up a storm.

 Yuffie can’t help the loud laughter that escapes her mouth although Sephiroth has to give her credit for attempting to muffle it, even though she is not successful in that endeavor. 

 “Shut up, you! Gods damn it! Women these days…!” Yells a man though there is no true venom in his voice as he jerks open a door and walks into the foyer they’re both currently standing in. The man wobbles a bit and as soon as he catches sight of Sephiroth, he freezes. “Who the fuck is this?!”

 “Stupid mate, I present to you: Lord Sephiroth, mate to Lord Chaos and Lord Vincent,” announces Yuffie while she holds her arms out towards Sephiroth as if he is a god. Next, she drops her arms and waves a hand flippantly towards her mate. “Sephiroth, this is my stupid mate, Cid.”

 Her mate, the one dubbed as Cid, stands there gawking in disbelief and horror since he had just disrespected Sephiroth. Before he can utter a word, the half-elf holds up a hand. “No need to apologize. It is a pleasure to meet you, Cid. You must have a lot of patience…and exceptionally strong eardrums to put up with this woman.”

 Yuffie shrieks in outrage, or what she plays it off to be since really, she’s not actually mad. In fact, she’s impressed by Sephiroth’s wit and impishness. At first, upon meeting the ex-Knight, her impression of him was that he was one of those standoffish, boring types, and boy, was she wrong.

 Cid blinks a couple of times slowly before a wide, amused smile breaks across his ruggedly handsome face. And that’s when Sephiroth notices it. Cid is… _human_.

 “No, no, M’Lord, the pleasure is all mine,” genuinely laughs the man who ignores his mate glaring bloody daggers at him. Sephiroth can tell by the way he smells, and the raspy sound of his voice, that Cid smokes a lot of pipe.

 Upon closer inspection, the short-haired blond man stands of average height for a typical human male. His skin is lighter than Yuffie’s, but looks to be weathered as if he’s spent the majority of his life out in the sun. Something that looks like spectacles, but larger and more enclosed on a leader band, is strapped to his head. It’s an odd thing and Sephiroth has never seen something like _that_ before. What he also notices, too, which causes him to narrow his eyes, is that the human is wearing a tunic, a belt, boots, and breeches.

 “Why does he get to wear _clothes_?” Questions Sephiroth as he glares at the she-dragon.

 “Probably because nobody, except I guess me, wants to see his wrinkled, hairy old man body,” snorts Yuffie.

 Cid grabs the short woman and pulls her close to him. “Oh, whatever, woman, you love this body!”

 “No, really, why are you exempt?” Sephiroth probes as he tries not to gag at the lovey dovey sight of what looks like man and wife.

 The blond man scratches at his stubble as he regards who he grudgingly has to admit is a very damn attractive man. Course, he’ll never admit that to a soul. Ever. “I guess it’s because my work requires protective clothing. I’m usually inside the house banging around, fixing and making things. When I leave the house, I gotta walk around like you, though. I found it weird at first, too, but I got used to it. You will, too. I don’t know why ya feel self-conscious or uncomfortable. You’re built like…”

 “…Like a sex god! He’s saying you’re sexy,” finishes Yuffie for her mate. She flashes Cid a cheeky smile.

 “Gods damn it, Yuffie! I do not think he’s sexy! Would you knock that fucking shit off already?!”

 The dark-haired girl ignores her mate as she leans closer to Sephiroth to whisper conspiratorially, “I got Cid to kiss a man once. It was hilarious.”

 Cid hollers, “ _YUFFIE!_ ”

 Sephiroth half-smirks, suddenly feeling in the mood to play along. “Is that true, Cid? Did you…kiss another man?”

 “No! I was drunk off my ass! That shit didn’t count!”

 As the two continue to squabble like an old married couple, Sephiroth leans against the wall, eyes drooping a bit. He feels a bit weak and woozy, which may attribute to the fact that he hasn’t had much of anything to eat in the past 48 or so hours. He had eaten a little bit of fruit with Zack before they had departed, but not enough to sustain himself well enough for someone of his size.

 Blue eyes peer at Sephiroth inquisitively, looking him up and down as if searching for something. Cid does notice the other man looks a bit too pale and shaky. “Hey, when was the last time you ate something? You look like you’re about to collapse, man.”

 Sephiroth shrugs as if this doesn’t concern him at all.

 “Come on, let’s get you something to eat. You’re going to need your energy because if I know Chaos, and I know him well, he’s going to pound that sweet ass,” says Yuffie with glee. She quickly darts away as if she thinks the silver-haired man, or even her mate, may hit her for her audacity.

 “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Yuff! Now I got that fucking image in my damn head!” Complains Cid while shaking his head in disgust. He then looks to the silver-haired man and sighs. “You believe that shit? I think my woman gets off on that shit. No offence to you and yours, man.”

 “None taken, old man. Just try not to moan my name when you sleep with your woman,” suggests Sephiroth with a slow wink and coy smile.

 “For fuck’s sake, man! Pick a gods damned side already!”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Curled on his side amongst the furs, Sephiroth stirs when he feels fingers stroking his hair and something warm pressed up against his back. After several long moments of enjoying this undisturbed pleasure, he finally turns his head to look behind him and meets golden eyes that are gazing at him tenderly. He’s surprised by such an expression from a man like Chaos and doesn’t know how he should feel about it.

 “Did you have a good day?”

 Sephiroth doesn’t know how to answer that. It hasn’t been bad or good, rather more of a mix of both. In the end, he decides to just nod his head slowly.

 “I have done nothing but think of you all day,” confesses Chaos as he trails slow kisses along Sephiroth’s strong jaw, his hands sliding down to grasp at the smaller male’s hips.  The dragon pulls him closer against his larger body and Sephiroth can feel just how affected Chaos is by him. He can’t help rolling back against the leather-clad groin that’s slowly undulating against the curve of his ass. He’s beginning to feel the urge to have the golden-eyed male mount him in whatever way he wants just as long as it’s done, and soon.

 “Chaos, I would like a word with him. Leave us, for now. It will not take long,” calmly says Vincent as he crouches down in front of their silver-haired mate.

 Surprisingly, Chaos untangles himself from Sephiroth and rises up without any protest. He nods at his brother before stepping outside of their chambers to wait.

Sephiroth slowly sits up to listen to whatever Vincent has to say to him. He still feels hazy and aroused as he gazes at the beautiful, raven-haired male. The half-elf feels the sudden compulsion to kiss him, but refrains from doing so.

 Vincent sighs. “You do not have to indulge him so, Sephiroth. You are our mate, not our whore. If you are not in the mood, or wish for rest, you can say so. No one will be angry with you, or hurt you…”

 The silver-haired man blinks slowly at that. It’s the first time he’s heard Vincent speak that much in one sitting. 

 The crimson-eyed man gently cups Sephiroth’s chin in his hand. His thumb traces over the fair-skinned man’s ample, slightly moistened lips while his eyes follow his own movement. He glances up from parted, tempting lips to stare into lust-blown, vibrant green eyes. The pupils of his own blood-red orbs begins to expand and he leans forward, tilting his head only to abruptly turn away at the last second. He shudders when he feels Sephiroth’s tongue peek out to lavish his thumb with a slow, sensual lick. Vincent bites back a groan when he feels the beautiful man’s mouth take his thumb in his hot, wet mouth, his tongue winding around it like a snake.

 Vincent tears himself away from Sephiroth as if burned from fire and bolts from the chambers past his slightly older twin brother.

 The silver-haired man smiles demurely, not the least bit offended although he does feel disappointed. He can still smell Vincent’s scent, thick with heady arousal. He unclasps his loin cloth and drops it to the ground before he lays back, legs splayed as he runs his hands up and over his chest, fingers brushing over hardening nipples, which causes him to moan almost breathlessly.

 Almost as soon as Vincent had fled, Chaos strides back into their chambers and almost trips at the tempting sight of the half-elf spread out like a feast before him. As he stalks forward, he sheds his loin cloth before climbing atop his pliant mate and slotting their hips together. He rolls his hips, increasing the friction and loving the little noises he wrings out of his strong, desirable mate.

Sephiroth wants Vincent, he wants Chaos. He wants them both separately and both together with him. Touching him, tasting him, and fucking him. He wants to feel them both sliding deep inside him at the same time, wrecking him, splitting him apart. He knows somehow that they won’t purposely hurt him unless asked to perhaps. But he doesn’t want to be hurt, and yet he still desires this seemingly impossible fantasy. His dilated eyes widen at the realization of just what kind of notion his mind has proposed. It’s not something he’s ever thought of or has even heard of before this moment and really, he doesn’t even know if such a thing is physically possible. Still, this is _his_ private fantasy and he can think whatever he likes even if it never transpires.

 Spurred even further by such arousing thoughts, Sephiroth impulsively rolls them both over to climb atop Chaos so that he sits astride him, his ass flush against the other man’s groin. The moment he is on top; he feels some hesitation creep into his mind because this is still new to him and he’s not entirely sure of what he’s doing.

 “To think…just the other night, you were a shy little virgin. Now look at you…you’re an incubus,” breathes the dragon lord as he drags his hands up the slighter male’s impossibly long, smooth muscular legs.  His caressing of Sephiroth’s flesh seems to help cease the slight trembling he can feel from the man above him.

 “Are you disappointed?”

 “Do I look disappointed?” Rumbles Chaos as his large hands slip around thick thighs to grasp and pull apart the half-elf’s cheeks. He rolls his hips, rubbing his engorged, profusely leaking manhood against Sephiroth’s twitching hole.

 Sephiroth’s eyes slide closed as he reaches behind him, positioning the other male’s erection at the right angle to impale him. He then slowly, painstakingly sinks down on Chaos, his relaxed muscles giving way to accommodate the long, thick organ that seems to pulse within him. His voice wavers a bit as he admits in a faintly shaky voice, “As a boy…I always wanted to ride a dragon…”

 “So ride me…boy,” commands the raven-haired dragon who remains still despite the urge to grip hips and ram up into that clenching heat. His hands lightly anchor themselves to those hips he seems to have a clear attachment for. Hips he feels the hankering to caress, bite, and mark every time he looks at them. For now, he intends to allow his mate to have his way, but as soon as he tires himself out, and he knows he will, Chaos will take over.

 The half-elf’s muscles flex as he lifts himself up using the strength of his powerful legs before dropping down slowly. He does this a few times until he figures out a steady rhythm that works out perfectly for him. As he moves, he struggles to find that place he remembers feeling indescribable euphoria. Glancing down, he can’t help wondering why the man beneath him is lying there passively. Was he doing it wrong…? Then he notices those half-mast primal eyes watching his every move carefully as he bites at his lip until blood is drawn. Slightly alarmed by this, Sephiroth swiftly leans over, one hand braced on that broad chest, to wipe away the blood. Chaos’ mouth parts to draw one of his mate’s fingers into his mouth. He licks, gently nibbles, and sucks the other male’s finger as if it were something else, something _bigger_. Sephiroth groans at the feeling and he remembers the blissful feeling of Chaos’ wicked mouth on his dick, sucking and licking until there was nothing left. He had learned the night before that the dragon likes to give as much as he takes.

 Chaos allows the well moistened finger to slip out of his mouth and makes a show out of slowly licking his lips as if he’s just eaten something delicious.

 Rising up again, Sephiroth tries a different angle before slamming down sharply. _Ah!_ He finally found it, gods yes. His head whips backwards, long hair flying and mouth open as intense pleasure ricochets through his being. Whatever noises he’s making, he doesn’t seem to hear due to the rushing of blood in his ears and the almost frantic beating of his heart. Instead, he just focuses on bouncing up and down at just the right angle. His own eyes half-lidded, he looks down once again to catch those golden embers watching him ravenously as if waiting for something.

 It feels like pure paradise fucking himself on that well-endowed cock, but his body yearns for more. His muscles, namely his leg muscles, are growing weary from such strenuous exertion; however, that’s not why he feels compelled to stop. He’s now hungering for something else, a change in position. It takes a great amount of control to force himself to stop riding the other man. As soon as he forces himself down one last time, he rises up on somewhat shaky legs, effectively retracting Chaos from his body.

 Curious and not too pleased about the sudden halt to their coupling, the dragon lord props himself up on his elbows, but he does not otherwise move. He watches as his sweat-slicked mate steps over him to the other side of the large bed of furs before lowering himself to his knees. Slowly and gracefully, Sephiroth bends his supple body over so that his chest is pressed against the fur, arms bracing him with his ass up in the air and legs spread wide apart in invitation.

 The position looks submissive, but what attracts Chaos truly is the very clear offering that is willingly presented to him. Their first night together, the dragon lord had had to initiate everything and maneuver the younger male into various positions. Yet now, Sephiroth has taken the initiative twice now by choosing how exactly he wanted to be physically loved by Chaos.

The tattooed man rises up and approaches his mate, no longer willing to remain a passive participant any longer. Kneeling behind the silver-haired male, he rakes his long, almost talon-like nails lightly over the wide expanse of skin presented to him until his hands reach twin mounds that he gropes and kneads. He smiles faintly when the shorter man presses his rear hard against his crotch impatiently as if not too pleased by the other’s teasing. Murmuring something in draconic, Chaos takes himself in hand as he spreads apart a cheek so he can once again penetrate his mate’s loosened, yet still tight sheathe.

 Sephiroth whimpers, actually _whimpers_ like a damned woman while he claws at the fur. He’s too wrecked to care at this point and just wants Chaos to move already. Water gathers in his eyes as he grinds back desperately, urging the larger male to fucking _move_.

 “Sssh, I have you. I will take care of you, beautiful boy,” whispers Chaos as he leans over the smaller male, forcing more of his weight on the other as he begins rutting with deep, hard strokes into the pliant body beneath him. He purposely avoids hitting Sephiroth’s prostate for several minutes until he hears the silver-haired man cursing at him in a language he doesn’t know. The half-elf bucks back hard, growling and almost snarling despite the submissive looking position that he’s in. And that’s what Chaos loves about him. Despite Sephiroth being the one taking his cock and begging for it, he still fights back and demands everything from him. He’s a soldier, a warrior and Chaos’ only other equal besides his twin brother.

 Ah, _Vincent_. If only his obstinate brother would cease fighting the inevitable already and finally take what is also rightfully his.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

If Sephiroth were a cat, he’d be purring right now as he sprawls out amongst the furs while his body is carefully and gently cleaned by a warm, moist towel. His eyes are shut and despite the drowsiness, he is not yet asleep. Strong arms eventually pull him against a larger body and furs are pulled over them to keep the half-elf warm by trapping the heat of their bodies. Face pressed against a broad chest, he nuzzles his chest until he feels a nipple poking him. Then without warning, he bites it hard enough to make Chaos jerk underneath him.

 “Careful now…lest you start _something_ ,” warns the amused dragon.

Sephiroth trails his hand languidly over Chaos’ abdominals and snickers when he’s grabbed by the wrist. He’s not truly trying to start anything. The half-elf feels satisfied enough now and merely intends to tease the other man. The thought of moving, even for great sex, makes him feel even more drained than he already is.

“Sleep now, love. Last thing I need is my brother barging in here and accusing me once more of running you ragged,” sighs Chaos with a roll of his eyes. He then brings Sephiroth’s captured hand to his lips to kiss the palm before releasing it back to the half-breed’s custody.

 The ex-Knight says nothing in response as he stretches his body, draping more of himself over the dragon lord like a blanket. It barely takes him minutes to fall into a deep, blissful slumber.

 A few hours later, Sephiroth rolls over to his right and blinks blurry, lethargic eyes open once he’s aware of another presence on the other side of him. Glancing to his left, he spots Chaos out cold on his back in what looks like a deep slumber. Looking slowly to his right, he notices that sometime during the night, Vincent must have snuck in and joined them. He’s lying on his side, as motionless as a statue, on Sephiroth’s right with his back to him. The slighter twin is close enough to him to touch and at first Sephiroth reaches out, but draws back his hand before he can make contact. Sighing almost inaudibly, he carefully, lest he wakes either one of them up, adjusts his position so that he’s lying on his stomach. In spite of feeling tired, it takes him an exceptionally long time to drift back to sleep.

 If he had been somehow facing Vincent, he would have seen the restless, anguished eyes of the forlorn dragon lord.  

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this bad habit of pairing Cid and Yuffie together. I don’t know about you all, but I love them in this story. They’re like the comedic relief or something. FYI, Cid isn’t homophobic. He just finds the thought of men having sex uncomfortable for him to think about it. 
> 
> Anywho, hope you enjoyed. CH04 should be out in a week or so…and I promise next chapter will feature more Vincenty goodness. Maybe not the sort of Vincenty goodness you’re wanting, but it should suffice.


	4. Acquaintance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, more Vincent. You could say this chapter is pretty much about Vin and Seph’s little “date”. I am thinking of borrowing a few characters from FF8. Can you guess which FF8 characters I have in mind?

 

The murmuring of voices wakes Sephiroth up from his well-rested slumber. Out of habit, he doesn’t move to alert anyone that he’s awake. Instead, he continues to lie still and breathe evenly as he listens intently. The half-elf focuses on the voices to determine who the owners may be and realizes that it’s Vincent and Chaos. It sounds like they’re by the doorway of the bedroom chambers. Due to his enhanced hearing, he can almost effortlessly make out what the pair are discussing. They’re both talking in hushed voices ( _even Chaos, who is normally very loud_ ) in an effort not to disturb the sleeping man.

“ _…think so. You are going to stay here today and spend some time with him. You are always running off like a scared little bitch. He is not going to bite you, brother_ ,” whispers Chaos.

“ _I am not afraid of him_ ,” hisses the shorter twin.

“ _I am going out today with Gigas and Galian whether you like it or not. Angeal and your bitch boy are also going to accompany me. As you know, there are reports of those bloody White Dragons trespassing on our lands. If we find any, they’re **dead**. It has been much too long since I have destroyed something. I am itching to take those dumb bastards out…”_

Vincent quietly sighs. _“You better not do anything stupid, brother. I mean it. I know how you are.”_

_“Do not concern yourself with me. Worry about our mate. While I am gone, I expect you to stick around and get to know him, Vincent. I do not expect you to do anything you are not ready for, but that does not mean you get to avoid him like a plague. He is not **her** , brother. You need to move on past that shit already. It has been over 500 fucking years…”_

_“I am trying, but pushing me will not help matters, brother,” hisses the crimson-eyed twin._

_"I am not pushing you. I have kept silent for years, but I can no longer hold my tongue. You agreed to this arrangement and it was your idea in the first place, after all. The least you can do is be friendly and get to know him.”_

When the slightly younger twin doesn’t speak, Chaos continues to angrily whisper, “ _You keep accusing me of running him ragged, yet you won’t give him the time of day! At least I spend my free time with him and contrary to what you believe, I actually do talk to him. You, on the other hand, spend more time with that annoying fire crotch than you do with your own mate! Sephiroth hasn’t said anything to me about it, but I can sense he’s not particularly happy with your treatment of him. You must remember, he left his **home** , his **people** , for us. So yes, I am going to leave now, and I expect you to spend the _entire _day with him and do not even think about pawning him off on Yuffie or anyone else.”_

No more words are shared between them after that. The sound of Chaos scoffing and departing from the chambers reverberates until it is once more replaced by silence.

He feels slightly ashamed of having overheard their conversation, but really, if they had wanted it to be private, then they should have talked _elsewhere_. He chooses that moment to pretend that he’s beginning to stir from his slumber since he doesn’t have it in him to actually sleep the day away. He can feel that he’s already slept much too long already. Normally, he is an early riser, but the past few days, he’s been waking up later than normal.

Sephiroth slowly rolls onto his back and blinks open his eyes to stare at the ceiling. A real yawn escapes his lips as his muscles protest from their length of sustained inactivity. He leisurely sits up, stretching his arms and legs until he feels confident enough that he can move without straining anything. Although he is still relatively young, he knows the importance of stretching and does it every time he awakens unless he’s attacked in his sleep, or there’s an emergency.

When the silver-haired man glances around, he’s surprised to see the shorter twin is still standing in the doorway, watching him.

“Sleep well?” Quietly asks Vincent, looking a little bit like a kicked puppy. It only serves to make this moment even more awkward for them both since normally he’s only around when Chaos is there. This is the first time the half-elf can recall the slighter dragon lord ever being alone with him.

Sephiroth nods slowly as his eyes begin to keenly search for the remains of his…attire. He doesn’t remember where he put it or even if it’s still in once piece. The other man has seen him naked before and in compromising positions so he shouldn’t feel shy, but for some reason, he is feeling it now. He has undressed and dressed countless times around plenty of men so really, he shouldn’t feel this way around Vincent, but he just does.

The silver-haired man flinches slightly when suddenly, black leather is held out in front of his face. He looks up to see Vincent standing over him, holding out the exact thing he has been looking for. He had not even heard Vincent approach him, which is shocking in itself. He shivers a little at the sight of the other male towering over him, which causes him to look away after gingerly taking back his article of clothing. Hah, _clothing_. “Thank you…”

Vincent watches him with those sharp, unreadable eyes of his and doesn’t budge from his spot. “Are you hungry?”

“A little bit, yes…” Answers the half-elf as he dresses quickly and with more ease compared to last time. The only difficulty he has is the feeling of eyes burning into him as he does so. He doesn’t understand why he’s as nervous as he is.

“Follow me,” utters Vincent as he turns away. He stops a moment, as if realizing a mistake and quietly adds, “…please.”

Sephiroth then wonders if maybe he’s not the only one nervous here. He had overheard the conversation between the dragon lords, so it was very likely that for whatever reasons, the crimson-eyed lord felt anxious around him. Nodding curtly, he says, “As you wish…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After several minutes of awkward silence, Sephiroth glances at Vincent from the corners of his eyes. He has many questions to ask, but doesn’t know if should especially since the other man isn’t the most approachable person. Despite this, he’s not a coward and is prone to taking risks whenever he has to. He knows that he should be the one to take the initiative. The ex-Commander has a feeling that no amount of coaxing from Chaos will ever get Vincent to open up to Sephiroth.

“You do not like me much, do you.” States Sephiroth as if this is an undeniable fact.

Vincent looks at him so quickly that his neck makes a loud cricking sound. His normally calm, cool eyes are slightly wider now as he stares at the half-elf in realization. “You overheard us…”

“Was sort of difficult not to…” admits the silver-haired man with a sheepish grin.

The raven-haired dragon nods in a silent gesture of agreement with the other man’s answer. He looks away and crosses his arms as they continue to walk, side-by-side. After a matter of minutes walking through corridor-like tunnels, he confesses, “I do not dislike you, Sephiroth. I...admire your sacrifice and the way you present yourself in any given situation. This must be a tough time for you, yet you endure it better than I believe my brother and I would ever, could ever, bear such a trial. I…have never met someone like you before. The way I have been acting…has nothing to do with you. I am sorry…if it seems that way…”

Sephiroth nods curtly, accepting him at his word. He has the distinct impression that Vincent isn’t one for small talk and doesn’t talk much unless he has something to say. That’s something he himself can relate to because he’s similar in a way. And if anything, he’s used to being on the listening end most times since Zack always enjoyed talking more than he probably should.  

As they continued to walk, this time in a silence less uncomfortable, he thinks of last night about something in particular that doesn’t sit well with him. The more the silence stretches, the more he feels bugged by it until he decides to ultimately break it. “I apologize for offending you last night. I got a little…carried away.”

“You did not offend me…”

“Then why did you scamper off like a rabbit?”

Vincent didn’t look like he liked that comparison very much, but didn’t comment on it. “It is not your fault and you have done nothing wrong. Know that, at least.”

“I see,” said Sephiroth as they continued to stride through never ending passageways. He wisely decides to drop the subject since the other man’s issues aren’t his business. As long as there is no offence or any problems between them, he doesn’t need to know. If he were Vincent, he knows he would want the same courtesy. As a soldier, Sephiroth knows that some of the worst wounds unimaginable to man, lies in the head and heart, not the body. Unimaginable because such pain only the bearer feels and no other can.

“Where is everyone?” Asks Sephiroth when he realizes that they haven’t come across a single person in their trek to wherever it is Vincent is leading them to.

“A good portion of these caverns belong solely to my brother and I…and now to you. No one else, not even person guards, has the right to enter unless given proper permission. Not even out cousin can enter without our given permission.”

Sephiroth attempts to sound nonchalant, but isn’t certain if he is convincing enough. “Does that mean Chaos invites his, eh, bed guests here?”

“My brother is insatiable, or so he’d have you believe…but no, he has never invited anyone here...for _that_. He has always done that elsewhere and even that has come to a stop. If you are concerned about him having other bedmates, do not be. I will not allow it. He is not to hurt you or to dishonor you. And if he should break his word, I will make him pay dearly…”

“You seem to have a lot of control over him,” points out Sephiroth with some awe and no small degree of relief.

“I have to. There is a reason why he is named _Chaos_ , after all. Without me dogging his steps, this place would be in utter ruin,” sighs Vincent as if the task of being the dominant lord and brother is wearisome to him.

“Seems like you are doing an exceptional job.”

Vincent looks at Sephiroth and smiles lightly for the first time since…pretty much ever. At least, to Sephiroth, that is. The half-elf is taken aback by the beauty of that small, exclusive smile and he does his best to memorize it. He has a feeling the older man doesn’t have a consistent tendency to smile.

“I have a sneaking suspicion…that you will be able to control him better than I do,” predicts the dark-haired man, still smiling lightly as they enter a different chamber, another long corridor seemingly connected to other caves. It smells and feels different with the scents of different people hanging in the air. The crimson-eyed dragon’s smile drops the moment he spots Angeal and Genesis around 15 meters away.

Sephiroth notices the change in attitude and he, too, spots the body guards heading their way. An evil little idea springs into his mind and he cannot help but to fulfil it. He subtly moves closer to the older male, and snakes his arm around his waist and pulls him closer. He feels Vincent tense, but the dragon lord doesn’t pull away or protest in any way; however, he does cast a questioning look at his mate. The green-eyed male’s mouth hovers near Vincent’s ear, his breath making the dragon shiver as he whispers, “ _Just play along_.”

Nodding slightly, Vincent winds his right arm around the slightly shorter male’s waist. His hand drapes near a lovely hip and he cannot suppress the sudden urge to caress hip and thigh as they stride entwined together.

The silver-haired man does his best to resist the wicked smile that threatens to unleash itself at the sight of the red-haired dragon’s face blanching at the sight of his lords attached to one another. To add insult to injury, he forces them to stop walking so he can cup the side of the older man’s face in his hand. Then he leans over and presses his lips to Vincent’s in a convincing, yet not over the top kiss. He’s shocked when the dragon lord grabs him and swings him, wedging him against the wall with his own body. The crimson-eyed male deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue into the half-elf’s gasping mouth. While he devours his mate’s mouth, his hands run over the hard, yet silky smooth planes of the younger man’s body. He smiles against Sephiroth’s mouth when he feels the shorter, very responsive male starting to explore his body as well.

“Do not mind us,” pardons Angeal as he walks by his lords busy making out against the wall. There’s a grin on his face while he passes them. Vincent releases the ex-Knight’s mouth in favor of latching onto and sucking at his long, strong neck. When Angeal’s blue eyes lock with Sephiroth’s, he gives him the thumbs up gesture to his red-haired friend’s dismay.

Sephiroth smiles slightly at that and nods at the big dragon. When his eyes connect with Genesis’, he sees something akin to murder flaring up in them. He cannot help smirking maliciously back at the red-head while he trails a hand down a strong back to slip under the loin cloth to grope at a chiseled cheek.

Genesis looks like he wants to flat out attack him, but is quickly yanked away by his taller compatriot. Angeal reprimands him in hushed tones as he drags him away.

Following several paces behind the guards is Chaos and two other, unrecognizable dragons. Sephiroth doesn’t have much of a chance to study them since they walk by too quickly to allow him a good look. The older twin slows his steps, smirking at his brother and mate as he passes by. He winks at Sephiroth and mouths, _Get ‘em!_

Once they are alone again, Vincent and Sephiroth slowly part from one another with averted looks like shy children. It’s not long before the dragon lord raises his eyes to focus on the younger man.

Vincent raises a slim black eyebrow and gestures between them and towards the direction the others had gone. “What was _that_ all about?”

 “To get that creep off of your back and for him to learn his place. Something about him rubs me the wrong way and I do not trust him,” admits Sephiroth with an apologetic smile. He then adds, “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable…”

“There is nothing to apologize for, Sephiroth. I may not be…as _animated_ as my brother, but if I do not like something, I will tell you, that I promise. In fact…it was kind of fun,” divulges the raven-haired man with a small smile. He then glances in the direction his brother and company of men had gone. “ _He_ didn’t used to be that way…”

Sephiroth shrugs. “Yes, well, people change, or should I say, they reveal who they really are eventually…”

Something glints in Vincent’s eyes for a moment, yet is gone just as soon as it had arrived. He nods in agreement, but otherwise says nothing.

“So…where exactly did they go? They sort of…disappeared,” Inquires Sephiroth as he pushes off from the wall, following the other male’s lingering gaze.

“There are many secret passageways in these caves that lead to private areas and some that lead out of the caves. Some only we know of, and some everyone else has access to. The way that my brother and soldiers have gone is a secret passageway that leads out. Very few know of it since it is for security reasons. I am sure Chaos will show you the way someday. He will probably want to take you with him sometimes,” explains Vincent as he begins walking again.

 Sephiroth’s ears perk at that since he has been hoping that he will not be stuck in the caves all of the time. It is disorientating down here and he finds himself craving the feel of the sun and the gigantic, open world. Since his birth, he has been raised to fight and be useful. He cannot imagine lounging around all day with little to nothing to do. Once he grows accustomed to this place and his role, he intends to find out what duties he can acquire. If he is indeed Chaos and Vincent’s equal, then he will need to prove himself to himself to them and to his new people. Yes, this is his home now and even though it has only been a few days, he is already feeling a connection developing to the twin black dragon lords and the people.

 

They walk in a silence that feels much more comfortable compared to not that long ago. Vincent leads them into a decent sized, comfortable looking warm room decorated richly in reds, blacks, and golds. There’s a table here and there and even some comfortable furniture to lounge on. A few servants are bustling around cleaning and attending to whatever is their usual duties. By the looks of it, a few people had recently eaten here despite its exclusiveness. Most likely Chaos had been here not too long ago.

When the servants notice the arrival of their lords, one approaches and bows her heard respectfully. Even though the girl appears child-like in looks, her voice is mature, yet detached. “My Lord and His Grace, good morning. What shall we bring to you today?”

“The usual, Shelke. It will just be the two of us,” answers Vincent in a kind voice. He then adds, “Oh and if you could, please send Tseng here as soon as possible.”

“Yes, M’lord. Right away,” says the girl before she bows her head and hurries away to give instructions to the cooks.

Sephiroth notices the way Vincent talks to others below his station and feels a warmth budding in his chest in response to that. In the past, he had witnessed many a lord treating their servants and commoners like trash and it had always angered him. Because of this, he likes Vincent even more than before and begins to harbor even more respect for the responsible, decent lord.

Vincent leads Sephiroth over to a small table in the corner with very comfortable looking chairs and pulls out a chair. He waits patiently for the silver-haired man to sit down in it before he walks around and sits in a chair across from him. Sephiroth feels a little odd at such a gesture usually intended for Ladies, but doesn’t comment on it because it doesn’t truly bother him. He isn’t one to trample on the kindness of others despite any personal feelings he may have.

 “It seems like you share Chaos’ opinion on Genesis,” starts Vincent as he gazes with some interest at the young man.

 “Seems that way, yes.”

 “Very well…” says Vincent with a long, suffering sigh that’s not aimed at his mate. He then continues, “I do not care for his blatant disrespect of you. Chaos and I, along with Angeal, have already discussed his behavior with him. He has clearly shown no improvement and yes, I did catch the way he was looking at you today. We cannot have that. No, I think it is best that he gets sent away to one of our military bases….”

“You do not need to…” Slowly says Sephiroth even though inside he feels elation at the idea of the red-head being sent away.

 “I want you to feel welcome here and not threatened in any way. Anyone that makes you feel like he or she does, will be **gone** ,” asserts Vincent in a voice that leaves no room for disagreement.

 “If that is your wish…”

Vincent nods. “It is. I try to give everyone a chance, but Chaos is right about there being only so much we can forgive.”

 “Yes, I agree,” murmurs Sephiroth as he thinks of the mother that had abandoned him. He doesn’t even remember what she looks like and no one had ever allowed him to even know her name. He doesn’t even know if she is still alive. It’s not until he looks at Vincent and thinks these thoughts that he realizes just how hollow and alone he truly felt among humankind. He still misses and cares about Zack, Aerith, and even Cloud, but he knows now that he never truly belonged with them.

 “I will not be surprised if Chaos is already way ahead of me regarding this matter,” slightly smiles the crimson-eyed man as he lifts up a glass to take a sip of red wine.

 “Will Angeal go, too?” Asks Sephiroth curiously. He has no ill feelings towards the large guard; however, he had sensed a brotherly sort of bond between Angeal and Genesis. He knows about such a thing because he has, or had it once, too, with Zack.

 The dragon lord shakes his head slowly. “I do not think so. He is fond of my brother and strives to serve him honorably above all else. That…and he has a mate here and she will not leave. I do not foresee him leaving this place anytime soon.”

 “I see,” says Sephiroth who has yet to take a sip. He’s never been overly fond of alcohol of any kind and tends to avoid it since it doesn’t affect him and tastes terrible in his opinion. He glances around, taking the time to trace the designs on the walls with his eyes. It hasn’t escaped his notice that they’re alone once more since the servants had left, most likely to bring food and whatever else is required. 

 “Sometime today, I intend for you to meet a few fine, upstanding soldiers. They are relatively young, but have proven themselves in battle. I have some in mind I think will do just fine for the duty.”

 It’s the ex-Knight’s turn to raise a fine eyebrow. “For what duty exactly?”

 “I will be needing a new guard and so will you. You will choose the one that you believe will serve you best. I leave it up to you.”

 Sephiroth stares at the glass, running the tip of his index finger on the rim in a seemingly endless loop. The idea that he needs someone to follow him around to protect him is ludicrous in his head. When he had been the Knight Commander, he had never needed protection from anyone. As a man of war, he is fully aware that Vincent and Chaos are fully capable, powerful warriors that have people trailing them just in case of an unexpected attack or emergency. It had been alluded to him at some point that this was due to something horrific that had once happened to Vincent many years. He also notices that whenever he so much as glances at the older man’s scars, the dragon tenses and appears perturbed. Does Vincent think his scars are ugly? Is he ashamed? Or maybe he hates attention being brought to them because the attack had been personal, or perhaps he just doesn’t enjoy remembering that violent encounter. Sephiroth has known some men who hated their scars because of traumatic events. Sometimes if said men even happened to glimpse the scars in a mirror, they became unstable and went berserk on themselves or others around them. Then there are the men who are proud of their scars and wear them as badges and medals of honor. Normally those types gain their scars from battle or some other feat they acknowledge as impressive.

 Whatever Vincent’s true reasons are for his self-hatred, and yes, that’s exactly what it is ( _or at least what he suspects it to be_ ), Sephiroth intends to respect said reasons. When they had been ‘acting’ in front of Genesis, the half-elf had been careful not to touch any of the older man’s numerous scars. It wasn’t out of disgust, but more out of respect and caution since he can tell Vincent is skittish about his own body despite the nearly-naked display of it. Because really, the silver-haired man secretly has a little bit of a fetish for scars. And even if he didn’t have a scar kink, he knows he would still want to touch them, kiss them, and tell Vincent that he’s beautiful. Because he _is_ beautiful no matter what and if Sephiroth has to spend many years trying to convince Vincent of that, then that’s what he will do.

 The jade-eyed man sits still as death with his eyes wide and unfocused when he realizes the true, sudden extent of his surprising thoughts. While it’s true he had felt attraction upon being introduced to Vincent the first time and lust for him the night before… _this_ feels different to him. He doesn’t understand what exactly it is or what is even transpiring between them. The half-elf cannot exactly label it as friendship since he knows what that feels like. This is _nothing_ like how he feels about Zack, Cloud, or Aerith. All he truly knows is that he feels a certain warmth and fondness for both brothers. If Vincent and him never go beyond simple friendship, or some type of familial relationship, he thinks he can live with that. Deep down inside, in Sephiroth’s heart of hearts, he has always craved to have a real family and a place to truly belong. A part of him, the part his pride and inexperience tends to ignore, believes he may achieve such things with these Black Dragon lords and their people.

 “… _iroth? Is everything all right?”_ Speaks an urgent voice and a blur of movement that succeeds in shaking him from his reverie. He blinks his eyes a few times before focusing on the concerned looking man leaning over the table with his hand a hairsbreadth away from the half-breed’s face.

 “Yes, I am fine. I was…just thinking…” Responds the silver-haired man calmly. He knows he has the tendency to zone out sometimes to analyze ( _more like overanalyze everything_ ) or quite frankly, to brood about something he’s not particularly happy about. Not to mention, Sephiroth knows his nature is more akin to an introvert, or the very least, an ambivert. So far, it seems to him that Vincent also suffers from similar habits and traits. 

 Vincent doesn’t look like he quite believes him, yet doesn’t question him further about it. He gingerly sits back down in his seat and keeps his perceptive eyes trained on the younger male.

 The sound of people entering the chamber and the smell of food wafting towards them, temporarily distracts both males, as the servants bring platters of carefully cooked and prepared food on plates.

 Sephiroth feels a little out of his element since he’s never been served like this in his entire life. He and his men have always eaten their meals together in a normal, less than fancy setting of what had been dubbed the Knight’s Hall, but was pretty much a Mess Hall of sorts. Servants had brought food and cleaned up after them, but never stuck around to wait on them hand and foot. The somewhat overwhelmed ex-Knight is not so certain that he likes people hovering over him while he eats or serving him like he’s a King. Vincent seems to sense this somehow since he politely dismisses the servants after everything has been placed accordingly in front of them.

 “Thank you,” quietly murmurs Sephiroth.

 Vincent merely smiles before urging his mate with a wave of his hand to eat something already. And for the first time in several days, Sephiroth actually consumes a full meal.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Around 45 minutes later, a sleek, yet toned dragon of average human height strides purposely into the dining chamber. He looks neat and orderly with his long dark hair slicked and tied back which seems to accentuate his stern dark metallic eyes. Like the other dragons, he has various tattoos adorning his body, yet only one on his face which appears to be a _dot_. Like the other dragons, his skin is darker than Sephiroth’s and he wears a dark blue cloth loin cloth that almost appears black. In one hand, he carries a roll of parchment, a quill, and a vial of ink.

 It doesn’t take him long to cross the room to meet Vincent and Sephiroth. He stops at a respectable distance and next bows his head out of reverence first to Vincent and then to Sephiroth. His voice is serious and straightforward as he queries, “You summoned me, my lord?

 “Sephiroth, this is Tseng. Tseng, this is Sephiroth,” introduces Vincent, who waits for both men to acknowledge one another before continuing, “Tseng operates mostly as our Spymaster of sorts. He deals mostly with intel and overseeing the troops. He has been with us since the beginning and even briefly served our… _father_ for a time. Before him was Veld, but that is a story for another day. Veld…is no longer with us.”

 The silver-haired man listens intently without interrupting either man and doesn’t miss the slight inflection of the word ‘father’. He remembers Yuffie recently mentioning the previous lord with distaste. Obviously there is a story there and it is not a good one. He nods curtly at Vincent’s succinct summarization and doesn’t miss the slight clenching of Tseng’s free hand. It appears both Tseng and Vincent are masters at concealing their emotions; nonetheless, Sephiroth has always been a perceptive person with a good number of years under his belt for reading people. He doesn’t consider himself an expert, but he does notice the little things that most people tend to miss. The half-elf knows what exactly to look for and because of that skill, he has saved many lives, including his own, many a time.

 “If you should ever require my assistance, do not hesitate to call on me, Lord Sephiroth,” offers Tseng, bowing a little more than is customary. He straightens up almost immediately and turns towards Vincent after the half-elf nods in understanding.

 “Does my Lord require anything else?” Asks Tseng with his dark gaze fixed with undivided attention on the dragon lord. The way he presents himself is calm, professional, and very controlled. Sephiroth already feels some growing respect for the strict-looking dragon even though the man seems as cold as ice. He’s always had the upmost respect for self-controlled individuals that loyally serve their lords and kings without being asskissers. The ex-Knight Commander cannot even begin to recall just how many of King Gast’s subjects were always kissing his ass.

 “Yes, Tseng, as a matter of fact, I do. Genesis will be dismissed as my personal guard so that means I need a new one…and I would like one for my mate, as well. You probably already know which ones I have in mind, I am sure. If you could bring them to us sometime today, that would be greatly appreciated.”

 “Right away, my lord. Anything else?” Asks Tseng patiently.

 Vincent shakes his head. “No, that will be all, Tseng. Thank you.”

 “Yes, my Lord,” says Tseng before turning his attention to Sephiroth. He then inquires, “Have you need of anything, Your Grace?”

 “Uh…well…no red-heads?” Speaks Sephiroth with a shrug. He feels uncomfortable with all these titles and wonders if he can get Tseng to just call him by his name. Probably not. The man looks like he follows proper protocol and would probably gasp in shock at such a suggestion.

Sephiroth is surprised when Tseng offers him a small, half-smile before saying, “I would never dream of sending Reno to you. The boy is petulant and probably would not keep his hands off of you.”

 “Definitely not,” quickly asserts Vincent, who appears displeased at the mere notion of someone fondling Sephiroth.

 When Tseng nods to them both and swiftly exits, Sephiroth looks to the dark-haired man and asks, “ **Who** is _Reno_?”

 “You do not want to know…” Sighs Vincent.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After a nice, hot bath ( _in which Vincent insisted on being absent from_ ), Sephiroth finds himself outside the caves lying on his back in some fresh grass and wildflowers in a mostly open meadow. His eyes are closed as he enjoys basking in the warm sun and feeling the pleasant breeze tickling his skin. Although he is at ease and is sorely tempted to nap, he still makes sure to listen to any and all sounds even though Vincent is a few feet away, crouched on a boulder. He knows without looking that the older man is quietly observing him.

Sephiroth jerks up at the sudden sound of a twig breaking and glances around trying to pinpoint the disturbance. He calms once he spots his beautiful black horse grazing several feet away. The half-elf makes an unusual whistling noise that only the horse knows well and commands, “[Mako](http://www.deviantart.com/art/Black-horse-153269800), come here…”

 The black horse tosses his head, eyes rolling until he spots his master. He immediately trots over to Sephiroth, but slows down once he’s near to avoid trampling him. Mako lowers his head to lick and chew at long, silver hair. The ex-Knight sighs in exasperation, pushing the playful horse’s face away. “Ugh, stop that, Mako…”

 “Your horse, I take it?” Asks Vincent from his spot perched on the gigantic rock. He watches with some amusement as the horse continues to harass his owner. “I think he missed you…”

 “Are you joking? He does this all of the time. I believe the beast is touched in the head,” scoffs Sephiroth as he continues to push the equine’s nickering face away. He nearly gets kicked in the face when the stallion decides to turn onto his back and roll around as if to get an itch. The half-elf ducks the kick and then pushes the horse onto his side and pins him down while he pats the stallion’s barrel body. The steed doesn’t struggle and just lays there savoring the pats and strokes of his master’s calloused hands. 

 Vincent remains on his rock, watching avidly as he comments, “He seems wild…”

 “He was born in the wild, you could say. Zack likes to joke saying this beast is part Hell Horse. I do not know about that, but he is… _something_ , indeed,” smiles Sephiroth as he gazes down at the spoiled beast thumping his tail against the ground. Sometimes his horse acts more like a giant dog than anything else.

 “Mako, was it? Does that mean anything?” Inquires the dark-haired male while he watches the younger man’s hands caressing and petting the horse. The longer he watches, the more envious he grows of Sephiroth’s spirited mount.

 “Strength,” simply answers the silver-haired beauty without ceasing in his pampering of the equine.

 “He does look strong,” concurs the dragon lord.

 “Mako was named for the strength of his spirit, his will. He wasn’t always physically strong as he is now. Aerith…found him as a colt starved and half dead in the forest near the castle. She brought him to the healers and they told her he would be lucky if he even lasted 3 or 4 more days. They wanted to euthanize him to spare him further agony, but she would not allow them to. Instead, she stayed with him in the stable and cared for him however she could. She even…heh, begged me to stay with her to help. She was afraid someone would whisk her away from him and that he’d die alone. So...I stayed,” regales the pale man in such a way that it is clear this is a fond memory for him.

 “I take it that he lived…”

Sephiroth rolls his eyes at the other man’s sarcastic, yet amiable tone. “Yes, he did. Days passed…and he still lived against all odds. He was very weak, but he refused to die. The colt was just too stubborn to die, I guess. Mako fought his illness and in time, grew stronger until he could walk properly on his own again. For whatever reason, he seemed to like me even though I didn’t pamper or praise him like Aerith did. She ended up _gifting_ Mako to me and told me that he and I would be good for each other. That he was the horse version of me. She even named him, too. I would have named him nuisance or something along those lines…”

 “The resemblance is uncanny…”

 “Oh, shut up.”

Sephiroth doesn’t even have to look to know that the dark-haired man is smiling. He feels a warmth fill his chest at such a notion and curses under his breath when he feels his face heat up like a schoolgirl. He doesn’t say anything else and neither does the darker-skinned man for several minutes.

 “This Aerith you speak of…is she the one you were willing to die for? To take her place as our shared mate?”

 “The very same,” answers the pale-skinned male. He keeps his back to Vincent just in case his face is still rebelling against him.

 Vincent lapses back into temporary silence as if he is mulling this information over in his head. When he does decide to shatter the silence, his voice sounds hesitant as if he doesn’t really want to know the answer. “Do you…love her?”

 “Does that matter now?” Sighs Sephiroth, patting Mako a few more times before rising up to his full height. He doesn’t know why the other would care about who he loves or doesn’t love, but then again, the twins don’t know about his true relation to Aerith. The ex-Knight then suddenly realizes that the older male is implying a different kind of love altogether.

 Mako whinnies, obviously displeased that the pet session is over. He gets over it quickly, though, as he rises up on all four legs and shakes his head free of grass and dirt. The black horse shoves his head against Sephiroth, nearly making the man stumble back; however, the ex-Knight is well prepared and digs his heels into the ground to avoid falling on his rear. Sighing, he hugs the horse’s face to his chest before kissing him right between the eyes. Then he slaps the equine on the ass to dismiss him and shakes his head when he notices Mako trotting away with his head and tail held high in an attempt to show off.

 “I suppose not…” Mumbles the older man in a deflated voice.

 The silver-haired man peeks over his shoulder to find that the regal, usually almost perfectly composed lord is… _sulking_ like a petulant child. He cannot help feeling pity for him, which has him deciding to throw him a bone lest the dragon bolts to brood alone somewhere dark. “I love Aerith as I love Zack, as a friend. I have never…had the _other_ type of love, if you must know.”

 “I did not need to know,” denies Vincent even though he seems relaxed once more as if a great weight has been lifted. Well, he looks as relaxed as someone like him can possibly get, anyway.

 Sephiroth snorts. “If you say so…”

 The crimson-eyed man jumps down effortlessly from the boulder before striding almost leisurely towards the other man. He rolls his shoulders as he walks as if he is itching to do something or maybe he’s just sore. The dragon lord stops when he’s right beside his slightly shorter mate. “What would you say if I asked you if…you would like to ride me?”

 The half-elf inwardly damns every god and goddess imaginable while his face flushes as red as a tomato. He quickly looks away like a shy virgin on her wedding night. He’s no longer a virgin, but talking of such things in the light of day is not the same as doing them in the dark in the heat of the moment.

 Vincent sighs and figures out quickly by the half-elf’s reaction just how his wording may have sounded to the other man. “I did not mean it in _that_ way. It has only been a few days and already my brother has you corrupted so…”

 “Thanks for getting my hopes up…” Half-jokes Sephiroth.

 “If that is what it takes to get you to blush so beautifully, then perhaps I should raise your hopes up more often,” jests the raven-haired man.

 Sephiroth grumbles under his breath before he threatens, “You do that and I will invite Yuffie over… _Every. Single. Day_.”

 “Touché…”

 “So if you really weren’t being a perverted old man, then what did you actually mean by riding you, hm?” Questions the silver-haired while he stores away the Yuffie threat for perhaps a later use. His hunch about Vincent not being able to tolerate high doses of his own cousin is correct, after all. He may have to call on that bluff again for later use. He thinks of it as a bluff because it’s not something he’d be able to tolerate every day, either. That and he has the sneaking suspicion that Yuffie has a thing for man on man sex and may try to sneak in during one of their… trysts to _watch_.

 “… _old man_?” Repeats Vincent with a blank stare as if such a thing is beyond his comprehension.

 The jade-eyed man scowls at him. “Yes, old man. You are over 2000 years old, right?”

 “That is not old,” counters the frowning black dragon lord.

 Sephiroth smirks. “Compared to me, it is.”  

 “Yes, indeed. If that makes me an old man, then that makes you…a _brat_ ,” Slyly speaks Vincent, knowing full well the younger male will probably explode and lose his head.

 The silver-haired man narrows his eyes as he jabs his finger at the taller male’s chest. “I am not a brat!”

 “Prove it, then,” dares Vincent as he crowds against the other man, his eyes flickering to stare down at enticing lips. He can hear the rapidly increasingly thundering of both of their hearts at his close proximity.

 “Fine. Let’s go for whatever ride you were proposing earlier. I am not afraid,” boldly declares the brazen half-elf. He steps back a few paces to stop himself from closing the distance by kissing the older man.

 “You very well may be when I’m finished transforming,” warns Vincent as he backs away with deliberate steps until there’s more than enough of a distance between them to satisfy his need for caution. He’s pleased when the silver-haired man stands rooted to the spot. Closing his eyes, he concentrates on shifting his form and with a loud sound like a canon, his form seems to explode. A whirlwind of smoke, steam, and dirt circles the surrounding area as great big bat-like black, leathery wings expand fully followed by the massive beast of a reptile-like body. The whirlwind eventually dies down to fully reveal the impressive, unbelievable image of a black dragon standing before the half-elf in all its glory. The sun shines against glimmering, metallic-colored black scales that seem to range from different shades of black with a reddish under tone. What’s also interesting to note is that in his humanoid form, his horns point behind him while in his dragon form, his ribbed horns curve forward as if to protect his elongated face.

Sephiroth’s jaw hangs open at the sight of the gigantic, black dragon that can undoubtedly crush his entire body with one claw or foot if he wanted to. Even a confident, battle-seasoned ex-Knight like him can feel mounting trepidation at being near such a fearsome, yet beautiful beast. He’d heard of dragons before and seen them in books and other such illustrations, but he has never set eyes on a real one. When Chaos had called himself and his people dragons, Sephiroth had not known what to think. A few days of knowing these dragons had given him the false impression that they were just people and that the dragons in books and recounted by survivors were just mere myth.

 “ **Do not be afraid** ,” rasps Vincent’s much deeper, inhuman sounding voice. Intelligent metallic crimson eyes stare down at the awestruck half-elf. Though he longs to say: _I will never harm you_ , something holds him back…his stubbornness.

 “I am not afraid…” half lies the silver-haired man as he hesitantly steps forward. His fear ebbs away at the sound of Vincent’s voice and the warmth of his fierce, sharp eyes. This is not a monster or a beast; this is his Vincent and he will have to put his trust _and_ his faith in him.

 Vincent slowly lowers himself to the ground, ever mindful of accidentally smashing anything of importance. His head descends until it, too, is against the ground in what appears to be a docile, non-threatening position. His large eyes watch intently as the half-elf approaches him tentatively. Once Sephiroth is mere feet away from his head, he rumbles in approval. He sees the half-breed beginning to reach for him, but draw back suddenly as if afraid to be burned. The black dragon then patiently urges, “ **Go ahead…** ”

Sephiroth edges closer, sidling between horn and face as he reaches out once more, his hand finally making contact with the scales of the dragon’s face. He’s pleasantly surprised by the warm, smooth feel of the scales as he trails his hand over them appreciatively. He even runs his hand over the impressive, ridged horns noting that their texture compared to the scales is starkly different. The horns feel like cold, textured bone and he wonders if he’d ever get tired of touching such marvelous things. That is, if the dragon continues to let him, of course. He knows Vincent is probably only allowing him to touch him for the time being so he can grow accustomed to his dragon form. Still, he finds it difficult to retract his wandering hands from such _beautiful, regal magnificence_ …

 When the [dragon](http://orig01.deviantart.net/2667/f/2011/031/4/e/black_dragon_by_araiel-d38geuh.jpg) chuckles, Sephiroth realizes he has said those last few words out loud instead of in his head.

 “ **When you are ready, we will go for that ride** ,” says Vincent as he enjoys the hands roaming over his scales and horn. He bemusedly remembers that he had previously been envious of Mako earlier from receiving such attention even if this is not the form Vincent would prefer to be touched in. Still, it is something, at least.

 “I am ready now…” Sephiroth slowly eases out between Vincent’s face and horn until he’s several feet away again. He stares up at unabashed awe as the dragon rises up to a standing position. Vincent reaches out with his right claw, turning it so the palms face up towards the sky. He then lowers his hand-like claws to the ground.

 “ **Get on…** ”

 Sephiroth feels awkward crawling onto the warm, dragon claw and starts a little when the talons curl forward to box him in as if to prevent him from falling. He immediately grabs onto one to brace himself as the claw steadily rises up in the air. He is then gently deposited on Vincent’s back between his wings.

 “ **Hold on and should you fall, I will catch you…** ” promises the black dragon who then bounds forward, running at a great speed for such a big body until he pushes off from the ground and lurches into the air. His wings flap gradually, the wind causing him to rise to greater heights until he can fly without too much exertion.

 At first, Sephiroth clings to him for dear life until the dragon is soaring high above the world with ease. While he still keeps his hands anchored to the dragon, he does sit up more fully to gaze down at the world below them. His eyes widen at the unfamiliar, alien view of the land known as Kalm. To see the world at such an elevation is both staggering and breathtaking. He wonders if this is what birds see and feel whenever they fly up high above the world. The half-elf suddenly envies them more than he used to since like dragons, birds have the ability to fly, which is something he’d always longed to do as a boy.

 Sephiroth soon forgets his previous fear of falling as Vincent, with wings occasionally flapping, continues to glide high above the world, just the two of them with worries and woes temporarily forgotten. It’s in that precise moment that the ex-Knight notices the saturated, unidentified feeling blossoming deep in his chest and wonders what exactly is happening to him. It’s a feeling so lovely, yet so perplexingly intense that it has the half-elf clinging to the dragon hard while burying his face into him as if to help ground him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

_Disclaimer(s): I do not own any of the images (the horse and dragon sketch) linked or this dragon image displayed here. This is used only as a reference._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…looks like our stubborn boys are finally starting to warm up to each other, eh? Vincent is so smooth, yet awkward at the same time. Still gonna be awhile before Vincent pounds that sweet ass, though. I love it when they bicker and act playful, so there will be plenty of that, too. The fun thing about the original character Vincent Valentine is that he’s actually one of those silent, loner type characters that has a tendency to talk a lot at times.
> 
> Also, in case you do not know, an ambivert is someone having characteristics of both extrovert and introvert. I personally see Vincent as an introvert and Sephiroth as an introvert or possibly an ambivert. Zack is a good example of an extrovert. Chaos, too. There IS a difference between a shy guy and an introverted guy. Shyness and introversion are not the same thing, but they can both be within the same person. If you do not know what these things are, I’d suggest researching them.
> 
> Lately it seems like I’m always making Genesis the antagonist. I don’t always, I swear. I do have that one story where he plays wingman for Sephiroth...


	5. Deliberation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here enter the FF8 characters (just a few and don’t worry, NO Rinoa) and of course, more “bonding” time between Vin & Seph.

 

A couple of hours later, Vincent lands back down gently in the same meadow that Sephiroth had first introduced him to his rambunctious horse. The black dragon raises one of his claws up, palm facing up near his shoulder. He waits patiently for the half-elf to climb on, but when he doesn’t, Vincent glances behind him and notices the man is currently snoozing like a babe. He watches this for a few minutes until he notices that Tseng and several men are heading their way. Sighing, he ever so gently nudges the half-elf with the smooth, rounded curve of the top of a talon. Sephiroth immediately stirs upon being touched and jerks with a start when he realizes just where he is. The involuntarily motion accidentally forces him to tumble off of the dragon. Bracing himself for impact, he’s surprised when Vincent’s open palm catches his fall. He quickly sits up, rubbing the back of his neck and looking sheepishly at the amused dragon.

The dragon lord warmly chuckles, “Sleep well?”

“Um…well, I suppose so. I do not even remember falling asleep,” admits Sephiroth with a shrug as the dragon lightly sets him down on his feet. He stretches his arms, rolling his shoulders until he hears the sound of people advancing towards them. His green eyes scan their surroundings until his sharp vision locks onto the approaching people. He easily recognizes Tseng, but the rest are people he’s never seen before in his short time spent in Kalm.

“Looks like Tseng rounded up the soldiers I requested,” murmurs Vincent after he had shifted back into his humanoid form. Glancing at the older man, Sephiroth finally understands why these dragons barely wear any clothing. Still, that quite doesn’t answer _where_ the loin cloth goes during their transformation…

“When you change into your dragon form, where does your…clothes go?” Asks the silver-haired man while he gazes down at the leathery red loin cloth.

Vincent appears as if he has been expecting this question for quite some time already. “Like your kind, the _elves_ , I mean, we are magical beings and possess a variety of…abilities. We usually enchant some type of clothing that shifts along with our forms so that we do not have to worry about changing back into naked forms. Our blood also runs hot enough to heat our humanoid bodies even during cold weather. The only dragon clan that I know of that wears heavy clothing are the white dragons of _North Corel_. Their blood runs cooler, almost like a reptile’s, which means that they require some form of protection when they are not in dragon form. You probably are thinking they should move somewhere warmer, but our body temperatures tend to adapt to our surroundings, and well, like my brother will stress to you, white dragons are remarkably _stupid_. In dragon form, temperature doesn’t matter to us usually since we are protected by our scales. It is our humanoid forms that require less or more protective clothing depending on the environment. This is why our specific clan prefers to live in caves since it is cooler and more accommodating to our high body temperatures.”

The ex-Knight nods slowly as he listens to the other man’s thought-provoking explanation, which makes plenty of sense to him as he digests it. He tears his gaze away when he notices the _Spymaster_ and company are barely 15 meters away.

“If it bothers you to dress in our way then you do not have to regardless of what my brother may have told you,” slowly speaks the dragon lord while he follows Sephiroth’s gaze towards the approaching group.

“It is just strange, is all. I am growing…accustomed to it. It’s like wearing armor for the first time; feels odd at first, but you grow used to it and after awhile, you do not notice it anymore. I will get used to it, I’m sure.”

Vincent nods in response to that and mutters something so low under his breath that the half-elf isn’t sure if he had actually said it, or not: _“Good…it would be a shame to see you all covered up…”_

Before Sephiroth can get the chance to ask the dragon lord to repeat himself, Tseng chooses that exact moment to interrupt. “My Lord and Your Grace, I bring you the candidates. Do not feel pressured that you have to choose any of these soldiers at all. If none of them suit you, I can always fetch more that may suit your liking.”

“Very well,” starts Vincent with a nod. He directs his crimson stare towards the young recruits and orders, “One at a time, I wish for you to introduce yourself and tell me why you believe you are worthy of the position of personal guard. Let us start first with the blond boy on the right.”

The first thing the ex-Knight Commander notices is that the five soldiers, four males and one female, are all dressed in light tunics and aren’t carrying weapons. Unlike most of the black dragons, all five of these recruits are of a fairer complexion, like Sephiroth himself.

The blond steps forward from the straight line that the recruits are all standing ramrod straight in, and bows to both Vincent and Sephiroth all while wearing a cocky grin. He’s unusually short ( _even shorter than Cloud!_ ) with blond spiky hair that faintly reminds Sephiroth of Cloud’s unusual hair style and bright metallic blue eyes that ooze confidence. Despite his short stature, he has the undeniably strong physique of a formidable fighter. The only other thing that serves to stand out is the black tattoo on his face that reminds the half-elf of fire.

“Hey, I’m Zell and you’re probably wondering why I’m here; I’m here to make my Ma proud, Goddess rest her soul. I also want to prove to some _jerks_ ,” Says Zell, who pauses to shoot a look at one of the recruits snickering behind him before loudly continuing, “…that I’m **not** a chicken wuss and can kick some ass, if need be.”

One of the recruits, a tall blond, scoffs and rolls his eyes.

Zell snaps, “Shut up, Seifer!”

Sephiroth cracks a small smile since something about Zell reminds him of Cloud _and_ Zack. He glances at Vincent to gauge his reaction and isn’t surprised that the man appears unmoved.

Tseng sighs. “Next, _please_.”

Zell steps back in line obediently as a brunette of average human male height steps forward. He bows as customary, but straightens up almost automatically as metallic pale blue eyes stare frostily from behind unruly hair without focusing on anything in particular. He is of average build for most teenage boys and nothing appears out of the ordinary about him save for a fine scar that cuts across his face from the right side of his forehead down over the left side of his nose. It looks like it had been cut by something remarkably sharp and what’s more interesting still, is that the blond male Zell had yelled at, bears a very similar scar on his face in the same area, except it starts from the opposite side. Sephiroth is sure there’s a story behind it and wonders how exactly their scars came to be.

“My name is Squall and I am here because I was brought here by Tseng. Whether you choose me or not…it doesn’t matter,” quietly says the brown-haired male before he steps back into the line between Zell and the taller blond.

The silver-haired man chances a glance at his mate and is surprised to see the older man’s brow is furrowed as if he’s trying to figure something out.

The Spymaster sighs again as he rubs his temples. “Next…and you better _behave_ , Seifer.”

“Chill, Tseng, the only person here I want to hit is that _wuss_ over there,” assures the tall, short-haired blond as he strides forward after shooting Zell a dark look that promises pain should the shorter blond dare open his big mouth. Like everyone else, Seifer bows respectfully to Vincent and Sephiroth before rising back to his full height. Metallic cyan eyes gaze unabashedly, yet respectfully enough at the dragon lord and his mate. Despite sharing a similar scar, Seifer appears to be the polar opposite of the aloof Squall.

 “As you both heard, my name is Seifer. I want to serve you because I believe it is my calling to protect, and to protect you would be the greatest honor any dragon can ever achieve. I don’t like admitting this, but as a kid, I always heard the tales of knights protecting their lords and it kind of…stuck with me. But I’ll warn you right now, if you give me an order that endangers your life, I won’t follow it. If that’s a problem, then don’t choose me.”

Sephiroth looks over at Vincent again and notices that his head is slightly tipped to the side while he regards the brash youth. He wonders what the older male is thinking and if maybe, like Sephiroth, he is considering the same people already.

“Well…that was better than I expected,” admits Tseng as he waves a hand for Seifer to step back into place. The blond reluctantly, yet obediently eases himself back beside Squall without complaining, which causes the brunette to look at him and raise an eyebrow. Even Zell appears shocked by this as he openly gapes at the cyan-eyed man.

“All right, next one—” Begins Tseng only to be cut off by Vincent’s firm, yet not unkind voice.

“—I have seen enough, Tseng. Thank you. I believe we both know which recruits we will select,” interrupts the dragon lord as he casts an apologetic look at the other two, yet to be introduced candidates.

“Do we?” Asks Sephiroth coolly as he arches a silver eyebrow in jest.

Vincent doesn’t appear to be in the mood to play his mate’s game. He crosses his arms and then jerks his chin in the direction of the young soldiers. “You choose, then.”

The ex-Knight mock sighs in defeat, “All right, I get it, old man, you need to take your nap…”

“ _Sephiroth_ ,” warns the dragon lord even though he isn’t truly annoyed.

“Fine. I choose Seifer and your brown-haired doppelganger,” answers the silver-haired man.

The Spymaster looks confused while he gawks at the recruits. Since there’s only one brown-haired person among them, he assumes the half-elf means Squall. “Doppelganger? Do you mean Squall?”

Sephiroth nods. “That’d be the one.”

“So I was correct then,” murmurs the crimson-eyed man.

“Yeah, because there were so many to choose from,” sarcastically says the half-elf with a smirk. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Seifer smirking, too, obviously enjoying his use of sarcasm. Most people usually didn’t enjoy his sarcasm, let alone his sense of humor that was often labeled as dry or dark depending on his overall mood.

“Squall and Seifer, please step forward,” commands Vincent who shoots his Spymaster a look that gives him a specific directive.

“Come along,” orders Tseng as he turns and ushers Zell and the other two soldiers away after bowing his head to Vincent and Sephiroth.

Seifer, who looks pleased, strides forward with the brunette at his side. Squall looks unaffected as he walks beside the taller male without uttering a single word. They both stand at a respectable distance and await further instruction.

“Both of you will be dismissed shortly for the day, but I will be expecting you to report early tomorrow morning to us. At that time, my mate and I will go over our expectations of you and any rules that pertain to you, as well. Questions will be permitted tomorrow _after_ instruction. If you have no such desire to serve us, speak now,” states Vincent before he pauses to allow them the chance to speak up. When both dragons remain silent, he continues, “Until then, enjoy your day, but rest up. I assure you…you will need it…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

_An hour later…_

After having acquired some horse grooming tools, Sephiroth stands in the meadow running a brush over Mako’s thick, black coat that always seems to shed no matter how much he grooms him. The horse shakes his head and nickers at Vincent as if rubbing it in that he has successfully stolen back his master’s attention from the dragon. The crimson-eyed man ignores the impudent horse in favor of watching Sephiroth work.

“I could have someone do that for you,” offers the raven-haired male even though he already suspects that his mate will not allow it since he seems to be a very active, responsible man. That and he is obviously very fond of the spirited stallion. Vincent understands in his own way because he himself tends to prefer taking care of the people and things he personally cares about.

“And risk them getting bitten or kicked? No, I think I will handle this sassy beast myself,” snickers Sephiroth as he pats his horse’s flank affectionately. 

“Mako is very fortunate to have you.”

The half-elf smirks. “As are you…”

Vincent coughs and looks away in an attempt to hide the sudden vermillion flush staining his normally lightly bronzed face.

“So…tell me, what made you choose Seifer and Squall?” Inquires Vincent in an effort to divert the attention from himself.

“Squall slightly reminds me of you in some ways. He appears calm and cold like you do, which is not a bad thing…at least to me, it is not. I have a hunch that he is a skilled fighter and will keep out of your way. Unlike Genesis, I think Squall will be respectful and do his duty efficiently to the best of his ability. He seems like someone who follows the rules and can take orders with little difficulty. I could be wrong, but that is what I think about him. Out of the two men, he would probably serve you best,” replies Sephiroth as he begins picking out leaves and combing out Mako’s tail. “As for Seifer, I like his pluck. I can tell he is on the rebellious side and may have an anger problem, but in spite of that, he seems like a decent person and probably just needs some more shaping up. Like Squall, I believe he has adept fighting skills that can be utilized if given the chance. I think he would work best as my guard because I have trained men like him before…and in a lot of ways, he reminds me of Mako. If I can handle Mako, I can handle anything.”

Mako snorts and paws at the ground with one hoof to show his displeasure for his master pausing in his ministrations.

Vincent appears thoughtful while he strokes his chin in a similar fashion to the way his twin does. “Those are more or less similar to my own thoughts…except I think Seifer is more like _you_.”

“Pffbt. I don’t think so, old dragon. Your ancient age is making you see things that aren’t there,” scoffs the half-elf as he starts brushing Mako’s long, slightly tangled black mane.

Vincent picks a random purple wildflower and drawls, “Hm, if you say so. I suppose that means that _fantastic_ ass of yours I am looking at right now is not actually fantastic, after all…since I am apparently seeing things that are not there…”

The ex-Knight inadvertently yanks Mako’s hair at hearing such an unexpected quip from the older man. The black stallion whinnies very loudly as he stamps his hoof indignantly, but doesn’t bite or kick Sephiroth. Had it been anyone else, the horse would have automatically snapped his teeth at the offender. The silver-haired man quickly rubs Mako’s nose in apology and kisses him on the forehead. Sephiroth then shoots a withering glare over his shoulder at the pleased looking dragon lord. He smirks as he slyly counters, “No, it’s all there, Vincent, and yes, it is fantastic. If you do not believe me, then just ask your brother.”

Vincent shrugs nonchalantly. “Perhaps his vision is just as distorted as my own…”

“You know…there is more than one way to see something,” points out the jade-eyed male as he resumes pampering his spoiled equine.

“Oh? Pray tell.”

“If you want to see it in a different way, then I highly suggest that you walk your happy ass over here and _touch_ it.”

“And if I did this, what would you do?” Slowly asks Vincent after a momentarily lapse of silence on his part.  Because he has nothing better to do with his hands, he plucks random pieces of grass out from the ground.

“If I told you that I have a thing for scars, what would you do?” Deflects Sephiroth as he traces a barely noticeable scar along Mako’s left flank with the tips of his fingers.

The older man says nothing for such a prolonged amount of time that the half-elf thinks he may have overstepped his bounds. Right as he begins turning around to apologize, Vincent’s voice stops him dead in his tracks. His low voice is quiet as he speaks in mild disbelief, “You would be the first to utter such a thing…”

“Because it is true…at least, on my part it is. I have always liked scars…the look, the _feel_ of them. Sometimes I envy others because it seems I cannot scar,” he explains with a shrug. He stops to turn around and regard the man he knows is burning holes into his back. “I am no stranger to pain, to nearly dying. Most who look upon my form assume I have been through nothing, that I always escape battle unscathed. Why do I like scars? I do not know, I just do. Why does anyone like what they like? I do know my attraction to them is not because the person has suffered. Hah, I am no sadist. I know that…something unspeakable happened to you long ago…and if I could, I would take down whatever vile thing was responsible for it. You may think them ugly, but your scars are not ugly to me. What happened was undoubtedly ugly, but…not you. You are not ugly and your scars do not mar you. Even if I did not have a thing for scars…it would not change my opinion of you, Vincent.”

For a scant amount of seconds that feels like hours, to Sephiroth, at least, Vincent brands him with his indecipherable stare, which causes the younger male to take an unintentional step backwards. With an inhuman speed that startles even a formidable soldier like Sephiroth, the dragon lord suddenly stands a hairsbreadth away from the wide-eyed ex-Knight. Wine-colored eyes bore into stunned jade depths so intensely that the fair-skinned man doesn’t take notice of the hand hovering mere inches from the left side of his face.

“… _can I kiss you?_ ” Breathes Vincent, his eyes now hooded.

A tingling warmth spreads through Sephiroth’s pale skin while his heart beats thunderously in his own ears. He doesn’t answer, but he probably nods, or at least he thinks he does. The half-elf doesn’t quite recall if he nodded or not, but he must have because a warm, calloused hand cups the side of his face as lips like silk brush against his own in a chaste, feather light caress. Even though there is nothing remotely erotic about the kiss, like the one they’d played out in front of Genesis, Sephiroth feels breathless when Vincent’s mouth parts from his as his hand drops away from his face. It’s just a simple, light press of lips, yet somehow it feels much more than that. Maybe it feels that way because it’s real and because it’s _Vincent_.

“ _I am sorry…I am…trying_ ,” whispers the dark-haired dragon with his face averted, but his body still in close proximity.

Sephiroth frowns at that before shaking his head. “You…do not have to force yourself, Vincent. If you do not feel that way for me, there is no harm done. Just because we are in a bonded relationship of sorts, does not mean you have to ever, well, _consummate_ anything. No one ever has to know and it is not their business. If all you want from me is friendship…then I will gladly accept it.”

The dragon rubs his own face with one hand while he laughs mirthlessly. His voice is gravelly and rough, thickened by emotion as he confesses, “Gods, Sephiroth, you…are such a beautiful, oblivious being. Do you not know that I _burn_ for you? When you asked me to ‘play along’ that time, I was not acting...”

“Nor was I,” admits Sephiroth as he takes Vincent’s right hand in both of his hands, cradling it as he presses the palm of that hand flat against his chest just over his heart. Even now, his heart still hammers like it’s at war within him and he is certain the older man can feel it, too, through touch. “I do not know what _this_ is, but I do know that I have never felt such a thing before. All I know is that it is you that makes me feel this way…and I do not want it to stop. We can go as slow as it takes…even if it takes years. And…just so you know, if you want to do something…just do it. You need not ask.”

Vincent splays his fingers against the warm, unbelievably silky skin of a hard, ripped chest. He can feel the unmistakable vibration of a heart furiously pumping blood and secretly hopes the organ never stops working. He curls his fingers slowly as if perhaps imagining that he can just reach in and pluck out that strong, beautiful heart for himself. Without lifting his eyes away from tempting skin, he softly asks, “When you find out what it is that you are feeling…will you tell me what it is?”

“What if I never find out?” Prompts Sephiroth as he watches long fingers curving and then straightening out to trace indistinct patterns into his flesh.

“A smart one like you? No, I do not believe that is your fate. I think you will figure it out sooner than later, and like the tease you are…you will make me beg.”

The half-elf snorts at that, clearly amused. “If anyone here is a tease, it is you. In the end, it will be me begging.”

“Hardly. Have you even seen yourself? The way you act, talk…and even stride… _swaying_ your hips. If sin were a person, it would be you.”

“I do not sway my hips,” instantly denies the silver-haired man with a roll of his eyes.

The dragon lord ignores him and continues, “As for the begging part, I will concede that…since I do fully intend to make you beg. From what I have glimpsed and overhead so far…you seem to do it very well, and quite beautifully, too.”

Sephiroth steps back, narrowing his eyes. “Do not make a promise you cannot keep…”

“I fully intend to keep it,” vows the raven-haired lord as he stalks forward, reaching out to take Sephiroth’s face in his hands. He captures the ex-Knight’s mouth, forcing him to part his lips so that he can kiss him deeply until the need for air becomes too great. This time, it is Vincent who steps back from the other man. He almost smiles when something that sounds suspiciously like a _whimper_ escapes from the glaze-eyed half-elf.

Sephiroth crosses his arms and glowers at the other male even though there’s barely any real ire behind it. “See? You are a tease.”

“Claims the one who just whimpered…and is standing there…looking all… _wrecked_ from a simple kiss,” points out Vincent in a tone that sounds deviously smug.

“I did not whimper.”

“You are right…it sounded more like a kitten mewing.”

The green-eyed man throws his arms up in the air in defeat before he yields, “Fine! If you say I am a tease, then so be it. From this day forward, you will know just how much of a tease I can be…and _will_ be every single day…and night…”

Like a ripe piece of fruit from a tree, the smile on Vincent’s face drops only to be quickly replaced by his default look. “I look forward to it.”

“It is on then,” purrs the ex-Knight, tossing a smirk over his shoulder while he inspects his horse. Seeing nothing else that needs to be done, he swats Mako on the rump as a gesture of dismissal. The steed whinnies as he gallops off, clearly overjoyed to be free once more. As much as Mako likes the attention, he isn’t one keen for standing around for long periods of time. 

“So…Vincent…is there a reason why people keep calling me ‘Your Grace’?” Asks Sephiroth as he lowers himself to lay in the grass on his back so that he can stare up at the bright blue sky.

A few feet away, the dragon lord lowers himself slowly to sit in the grass ground cross-legged. He pretends to be watching insects and birds when in truth, he’s watching the younger man out of the corner of his eye. “Yes…in this clan, the mate of the dragon lord, or _lords_ , in this case, is referred to as Grace. It has always been done. My mother was called the same…back when she still lived, that is. It is just a title reserved for you because you are cherished, and special to us. You are no less equal because of it, and it does not label you as a woman. In fact…the leader of our clan is not always male.”

“Are you…expected to make an heir?” Questions the half-elf with some hesitance as if he’s wary of hearing the answer.

“Not necessarily…since we can always name a relative, or someone else of our choosing. However, if you should ever wish it, it can be arranged so that you can bear us one or two. It is possible, and has happened in the past…”

Sephiroth quickly props himself on his elbows and stares incredulously at the black dragon. “Seriously? I have never heard of such a thing. If that is true…then I do not know how I feel about such a thing…”

“That does not surprise me. You were reared by humans and most of their kind do not know of it. It happens time to time among Dragonkind; however, it seems more common among the elves. And as I have said, it is not required. It will always be completely up to you,” sighs Vincent as his eyes trail over the length of Sephiroth’s lounging body to eventually stop and linger on his abdomen. His crimson eyes look a bit unfocused as he continues to stare as if in deep thought.

“Do you… _want_ children?” Curiously asks Sephiroth while he watches the other man very carefully.

Blood-colored eyes blink out of their daze to once more focus back on the fair-skinned man. Instead of answering the question, he mirrors it again. For whatever reasons, it seems to be a habit of his to redirect certain questions. “Do you?”

Sephiroth rolls over onto his belly and rests his face in his hands. Blowing some fringe out of his visage, he answers, “I do not know.”

“How about we make a deal. If you ever figure out the answer to that, then I will reveal my answer to you. How does that sound?”

“Fine…it’s a deal. But if I tell you and you do not hold up your end, I will make you regret it.”

Vincent smiles, looking elsewhere to avoid that green-eyed glare. “Duly noted…”

“Are you bored?”

“How could I be bored when I have someone as _captivating_ as you for company?”

Sephiroth narrows his eyes and tilts his head to the side. “Is that sarcasm?”

“Afraid not. Sarcasm is more your forte…although I do dabble in it now and then…” Says the older man as the corners of his eyes crinkle in mirth.

The half-elf snorts at that, rolls onto his back, and props his head up by folding his arms behind his head. He spreads his long legs wide apart and snickers quietly when he notices out of the corner of his eye how the older man is watching him with interest. He had not been jesting earlier when he had vowed to tease Vincent relentlessly. The silver-haired soldier smiles to himself when he notices the hints of frustration he sees in the other warrior. It is very subtle, but he knows what to look for and doesn’t miss it. He then decides to rub it in just for good measure. “Everything all right over there, hm?”

“Just fine, thank you,” growls Vincent who turns around to face his back to the half-elf.

Sephiroth isn’t in the least bit deterred by the older man’s attitude. He is a patient man and is willing to stretch this out for days, weeks, and even months. He naturally has a competitive streak that unusually reveals itself around worthy opponents. The idea of gradually driving the other man crazy fills him with satisfaction.

“So Vincent…Chaos. _Chaos_. That is such a strange name for a man. I know twins do not have to have similar names, but Chaos seems…very off. Is there a story behind that?”

Vincent is quiet for a long stretch of time before he finally decides to answer. His voice sounds weary as if this particular part of his past isn’t something he enjoys dwelling on, or in fact, has probably dwelled too much on already. “Our mother allowed our… _father_ to name one of us. Mother named me Vincent and father named Chaos…after himself. As you can imagine, our father eventually turned into quite the vile, demented man even though there was a time when he had not been that way. I think it’s like you said before, about people revealing who they truly are, I mean. I do not really wish to go into further detail; however, I will just say, Chaos hated him even more than I did. Because of his hatred for our father, he renounced father’s name and named himself Chaos. It is not a name I personally would have chosen, but it suits him, I think.”

“I think it suits him, too,” comments Sephiroth while he mulls over this but of information. The thirst to know more about that piece of history is there, but he restrains it since he knows it’s not something the other wants to relive. Some things are just too painful and other things…just don’t need to be made known. What use can he derive from knowing such things, anyway? What is the point of opening up old wounds just so he can, what… _know_? Sometimes it’s better not to know something about others or even about himself. After all, he has already spent countless hours of grief, of anger, brooding over a mother he has never known. A mother whose face, let alone, her name, he couldn’t recall no matter how hard he tried. She was and still is, a faceless specter that occasionally haunts his dreams. An old obsession that lingers in the back of his tormented mind, that clings to the frayed threads of his heaving, hollow heart, and claws at already gaping holes just to get free. No…no, it is best to just leave it alone, to let it go.

“I am surprised you do not want to know his name…”

“But I do know his name. His name is Chaos, and that is all I need to know,” states the ex-Knight while he watches the sun slowly lowering in the sky. It’s late afternoon verging on evening, which means soon the sun will be gone and this day will be over. And oh, what a _nice_ day it had been. He wonders if this had been a one-time thing or if maybe in the near future, they’ll have plenty of pleasant days spent together, if even for a few hours at a time. Realistically, he knows both lords are busy people and will not always have time for him.

“You truly are a remarkable man, Sephiroth.”

“You are only saying that because you have seen me _naked_ ,” teases the half-elf with a smirk.

Vincent sighs much in the way he usually does whenever his twin is being particularly difficult. “My brother draped over you like a second skin does not count.”

“Mhm…keep telling yourself that, if you wish…”

The sudden sound of thunder clapping, or something else that sounds close to it, disturbs the two men out of their amiable banter. Four or five gigantic, dark shapes appear in the sky, flying fast and hard over the horizon, looming closer and closer with each passing second. This causes Sephiroth to jerk upwards into a sitting positon and then roll forward onto the balls of his feet. Standing upright, he shields his eyes with one hand while he squints, trying to make out what those forms are. The great wing spans of the beasts pretty much gives away that there’s dragons heading their way and quickly, too.

“Looks like they have returned…from whatever it was they were doing all day,” mumbles Vincent as he, too, rises up into a standing position to stand beside the slightly shorter male. There is something about his posture and demeanor now that seems rigid and cold like before their day spent together. Can it be because Chaos is returning and now Vincent will have to go back to his duties? Is he jealous of his rambunctious twin brother, or better yet, does he believe that Sephiroth likes Chaos better? Whatever it is, the spell between them seems broken now and he is determined to weave it back together.

“Vincent…tell me something, and be brutally honest…did you enjoy being with me today…or was this just some chore for you?”

The raven-haired man tears his gaze away from the sky to look at the other man in surprise since it’s something he has not been expecting. The coldness in his crimson eyes seems to melt as he regards the breathtaking being that stands passively beside him with honest, unguarded eyes.

“If today was a chore…then I never want it to end,” confesses Vincent, who immediately looks away since once again, he feels vulnerable for the millionth time today.

Sephiroth feels tempted to touch him because every time he looks like _that_ , he feels the strong desire to comfort him. He has the feeling that even if it doesn’t seem like much to other people, Vincent has exposed more of himself today than he is used to. “I am just going to get straight to the point here so there are no misunderstandings or illusions of any kind. I like you, Vincent. I enjoyed spending today with you, too. I do not like imposing myself on others if they are not willing, but if you are, willing, I mean, to spend the day again with me…I would like that. Even if it is just to follow you around or attending boring gatherings.”

“You would want to be with me even if I am attending to dull matters?”

The silver-haired elf snorts, “Does that surprise you? Life is not all fun and games, you know. I was a soldier and a body guard. Can you imagine how many dull meetings I had to attend, how many innumerable hours I spent trailing after Aerith, or even, the countless hours I spent training? If I can do all that and not go mad, I can do it with you. At least…this time, I will not be alone.”

“Be sure to remember that when you are fighting to stay awake,” warns the black dragon.

“I will remember that and _more_ ,” promises Sephiroth as he winks suggestively. He pretends that he doesn’t hear Vincent fondly muttering under his breath about _impish elves._

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 

Out of the four dragons, only one of them actually swoops down and lands in the meadow. The other three continue soaring overhead in the direction of the caves. One of the black dragons carries something clutched firmly in its claws. An arm, and some legs dangle limply, peeking out between the talons. It is not yet clear whether or not the body is still living or is a corpse.

Chaos swiftly shifts back into his humanoid form looking ever like a cat trotting forward with a dead bird in its mouth. There’s a pep in his step and he seems different compared to before. He’s more relaxed and refreshed as if he’s taken a vacation of sorts.

“ **Who** was that Galien was carrying?” Automatically shoots Vincent without any form of greeting as he stalks towards his brother. He narrows his wine-colored eyes, blocking any and all access to the half-elf.

Chaos raises an eyebrow at his brother’s attitude. “What’s the matter? Didn’t get lucky? You had _all_ day, brother…”

Vincent narrows his eyes even more until they are thin slits. “ _Ugh_. Just answer my question, idiot.”

“I will as soon as you step aside and let me kiss my favorite elf.”

The shorter twin sighs, raking a hand over his face as he reluctantly moves aside knowing his brother will not relent unless he does.

Chaos quickly swoops Sephiroth into his arms and swings him around easily as if he weighs nothing at all. He sets him gingerly back down on his feet and kisses him on the lips in greeting before he snakes an arm around the half-elf’s waist and turns to face Vincent. “How was your day, love?”

“It was one of the best ones I have ever had,” answers Sephiroth truthfully as he locks gazes with the crimson-eyed twin brother.

“There will be many more, I’m sure,” assures Chaos with a pleased smile. Feeling the glare directed at him, the taller dragon sighs dramatically before addressing his peeved brother. “To answer your question…that was Rufus Shinra and do not worry…he is still alive.”

Vincent’s eyes widen in shock and then brim full of disbelief and anger as he rounds on his brother. “ _Shinra_? You captured Shinra? Are you insane?! You know what…do not answer that. I already know you are out of your mind. Just…tell me why and how you captured him.”

“Why? Because I can. As to the how…well, that will have to wait until tomorrow since it is such a long story…and I am both ravenous and exhausted.”

“Very well, but you will be getting up at the crack of dawn to tell me every single—” Growls Vincent who then pauses when he hears Sephiroth cough. He then realizes his mistake and quickly rectifies, “You will tell us everything in excruciating detail and do not dare leave anything out.”

“I look forward to it,” says Chaos as he strokes the exposed skin of one of Sephiroth’s hips. He doesn’t fail to miss the way his twin seems to zero in on that simple action. Something had definitely transpired in his absence and he is very keen on finding out exactly what.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

A few hours later, Sephiroth finds himself lying on his side in their shared bed with Chaos latched onto him from behind. True to his word, the larger dragon had eaten his fill and had almost immediately retired to bed by himself. As soon as the half-elf had laid down to sleep, a slumbering Chaos had curled against him, burying his face into silver hair. Every now and then, his breath tickled the back of the ex-Knight’s neck, yet it didn’t actually bother him.

For about an hour or so, Sephiroth lays awake staring at the empty spot next to him. He wonders if Vincent always makes it a habit to go to bed last yet get up first before everyone else. When he finally hears the chamber door almost silently open, he immediately feigns sleep.

A few minutes pass until the nearly inaudible sound of nimble feet approaches the bed. The familiar scent of Vincent wafts into his nostrils as the dark-haired man carefully lays down in his usual place. Sephiroth cracks one eye open to see the other man’s back is to him again like the previous night. Vincent has another thing coming if he thinks he’s going to get away with this. Grinning, Sephiroth swiftly seizes the unsuspecting dragon by his waist and jerks the stubborn man closer to him. He drops his arms away just in case Vincent feels uncomfortable about being touched while he sleeps, or attempts to sleep. He had only pulled him closer because he is annoyed that the older man always sleeps as far away as possible as if he thinks himself an intruder or something along those lines.

Vincent rolls over to look at Sephiroth, but otherwise doesn’t budge from his spot. He lifts an eyebrow, but doesn’t utter a word as he stares at the grinning elf.

“ _Let us pretend this is one of your tedious meetings, Vincent_ ,” whispers Sephiroth with a wicked smile.

“ _Oh?_ ”

The half-elf continues, “ _During it, one of your advisors is telling a very scary story…and it scares me…so you make them all leave_ …”

“ _Sounds more like you conned me into dismissing them_ …”

Sephiroth snorts. “ _You suck at this_ …”

What sounds suspiciously like a stifled laugh escapes Vincent’s mouth before he scoots closer until they’re almost touching. He takes Sephiroth’s arm and drapes it over his own waist and then curls his arm around the slighter male’s waist. Kissing him on the forehead, Vincent commands in a hushed tone, “ _Now be quiet and go to sleep, brat_ …”

 

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t decided if this will feature actual mpreg or not. It really depends on the plot and how long I’m willing to stretch this story out. Next chapter should have a bit more action and things going on. Character/relationship development is important to me. ;) They can’t always be banging or killing shit.


	6. Subjugation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you guys seem to be enjoying. I just want to say that as far as Mpreg goes, if I decide on adding it in, it won’t be a big part of the story and probably will be more towards the end. 
> 
> Also, because this is set in a more Dungeons & Dragons fantasy type universe, there will be no guns, however, Materia and Summons will still be allowed, but may not be exactly like they are in the games.

“For recruits, they are exceedingly competent soldiers,” comments Sephiroth after watching Squall and Seifer spar for a good part of an hour. His sharp eyes do not miss any flaws in their groundwork, swordplay, or hand-to-hand combat. There’s a few minor improvements that need to be made here and there and he will be sure to bring it up later on. For the most part, he can see that they are skilled warriors with some experience under their belts. The two young dragons are pretty evenly matched even though it’s fairly obvious that Seifer is the stronger opponent despite his anger and arrogance that seems to hold him back from truly exceling. Squall, on the other hand, is the smarter strategist with quicker movements even though he’s less passionate and hesitates now and then in their spars. He’s certain that with more training, they’ll both overcome their faults and become what they’re meant to be. Perhaps he’ll spar with them sometime to further gauge their adaptability to new opponents since it’s obvious they’ve already sparred with each other for years now.

“I take it that you approve?” Inquires Vincent as he watches the half-elf from the corner of his eyes.

Sephiroth nods briefly without tearing his gaze away. “They need a little more work, but otherwise I think they are quite adept.”

“I think so, too,” agrees the crimson-eyed man.

The ex-Knight strides by the dragon lord, his hand _accidentally_ brushing against a toned, tanned thigh as he passes. He pretends not to notice the look of surprise on Vincent’s visage as he walks by. Once he reaches Seifer, he wordlessly corrects his stance before quietly murmuring something in the adolescent’s ear. When the blond man nods his understanding, Sephiroth steps away, returning back to his original spectator’s spot.

Vincent says nothing in spite of the half-elf’s close proximity to him and seems to be in fact, ignoring said man.  Sephiroth can tell that the other man is somewhat flustered, which causes him to smirk a little bit as he continues to watch their new personal guards sparring like demons. Ever since early morning, Sephiroth has taken it upon himself to deliver fleeting, barely there touches to tease Vincent a bit. He’s tactful and doesn’t attempt such caresses too often. He makes sure to draw the time out between each touch and to make it appear as if it’s by accident. This isn’t particularly normal behavior for him by any stretch…yet he did make a promise to the older man and he intends to keep it. Some part of him wants to do this for some reason and really, if Vincent were averse to it, he would have already put a stop to it.

“Where is that brother of yours anyway?” Asks the ex-soldier with the steel-colored hair.

Vincent shrugs. “Shirking responsibility, of course. He insisted on bathing first, so he may be quite a while.”

“Want me to go fetch him?” Offers Sephiroth with a half-grin, already knowing the older man’s answer to that.

The dragon lord coughs indignantly. “No, that would not be a good idea. Neither one of you would return here until _nightfall_.”

“You are probably right about that,” admits the half-elf, his smirk widening once he hears Seifer loudly cursing profanities when Squall manages to nick him on the side of the neck.

Fifteen minutes of comfortable silence passes between them as they watch the now transformed guards battling in the sky like great winged titans. Vincent seems unaffected as he watches them whereas Sephiroth stands mesmerized by the impressive sight of sunlight reflecting off of gleaming _red_ scales and the occasional use of their fiery breath weapons. Despite their massive size, their moves are precise and fluid as they soar and swoop with grace and agility. Even in their beastlike forms, they are constantly aware of their surroundings and take great care not to accidentally singe their lords or even any trees.

The half-elf ponders again just what their story is, how they came to live in Kalm. Were they both born here like everyone else, or had they lived elsewhere? The majority of the dragons in the Black dragon clan seemed to be black, yet Seifer and Squall were both Red dragons. Perhaps that meant the clan wasn’t averse to bringing in other dragon sub races into the fold. After all, they had welcomed a human like Cid and a hybrid like Sephiroth into their home. They did seem much more accepting than the humans of Midgar. He cannot help wondering if those same humans would have been as accepting of him had they known what he truly was. They aren’t bad people, he believes, but he has witnessed how disillusioned and ignorant many of them can be.

The ex-soldier remembers his musings about the new personal guards, which prompts him to turn his attention back to Vincent with every intention of questioning him. He is about to open his mouth to speak when the older man beats him to it.

“Do you…enjoy what Chaos does to you?”

Sephiroth is surprised by such a personal, unexpected question from the other man. Until now, Vincent had never voiced any personal interest in his twin’s sexual relationship with their mutual mate. He had only ever thought to ask more clinical type questions regarding the relationship as if knowing more made him uncomfortable or just didn’t interest him. That is, until now.

“And what is that, pray tell?” Innocently asks the shorter man as if he doesn’t already know. He wipes all expression off from his face as he stares at the dark-haired male blankly.

Vincent growls, “Do not play coy with me. You know exactly what I mean.”

“No, I cannot say I do.”

“You are even more frustrating than he is,” remarks the black dragon with a slight scowl. He sighs as he brushes aside some unruly locks out of his crimson eyes. “Fine…do you like what my brother does to you… _sexually_...?”

“Yes, I enjoy it. If I did not…I would not let him do it.”

Vincent stares at nothing in particular as he quietly admits, “I have only ever been with one person…”

“As have I,” reveals Sephiroth, surprised that someone like Vincent, especially someone well over 2,000 years old, had such limited experience. Then again, from what he knows of the older man, he had been betrayed by the one he had loved. Pain is enough of a deterrence to cause anyone to abstain from any type of relationship, which is why Vincent appears conflicted about pursuing one with Sephiroth. He suddenly feels a bolt of hatred spark in his heart at whoever dared harm such a kind, wonderful man. Fidelity is something the half-elf has always prided himself in when it came to his people, his king, his sister, and his soldiers. He may be new to Kalm and the black dragon clan, but he fully intends to be faithful to them unless given reason not to be. It seems unforgiveable to him that a person who is supposed to love you, has pledged themselves to you, could tear you apart so brutally. He’s not certain if he ever wants to hear the full story behind Vincent’s scars since if he’s already this angry over knowing next to nothing, he cannot imagine just how wrathful he’ll be over the whole story. Just looking at those scars and the obvious pain in the older man makes him want to hunt that bitch down and make her regret ever hurting such a beautiful, loving man. If she is still alive, that is.

“My brother suspected as much.”

“Your brother is very intelligent, but he has nothing on you,” compliments Sephiroth with real sincerity on his part.

“I do admit, I am surprised someone as…well, someone like you, was untouched just a few days ago…”

The half-elf shrugs. “I never was interested in it before. I was always too preoccupied protecting the Princess that I didn’t know what I was missing really. Hah, even the handful of prospects that presented themselves to me didn’t seem all that favorable to me at the time. To be close to anyone in _that_ way, any way really…seemed utterly pointless. When you are constantly reminded that you are a _freak_ , even a beautiful one at that, makes you feel untouchable and cools any desire you might have."

The crimson-eyed man frowns heavily at that while he shakes his head. “You are not a freak. You are just…different, but that is not a bad thing. Though I admit you are rather striking and unique in appearance…you are more than that. While you easily draw the eye, you also open hearts and minds without really trying to. Even if the world were bathed in eternal darkness, people would still follow the sound of your voice…”

Sephiroth feels his face heat up at such kind praise and truly doesn’t know what to say, so he ducks his head and mumbles, “And you? Would you follow my voice?”

Vincent tilts his head down to peer at the blushing man. “What do you think?”

“I think you are smoother than a baby’s bottom,” quips the silver-haired man as he smirks.

“Maybe so, but know this, everyone that has met you, with exception to Genesis, has spoken highly of you. Even Tseng and he is not one to offer high praise so quickly or lightly. I will not be surprised if my entire clan falls in love with you and dogs your steps every day like lovesick children…”

Sephiroth snorts, “Oh, stop. You exaggerate, surely. Keep talking like that and in a few minutes, I may have to mark our lists of sexual partners up to _two_ instead of one.”

“You may end up feeling disappointed since I lack the… _experience_ my brother has when it comes to that…”

The jade-eyed man scoffs, “Pffbt. You are forgetting that I am barely experienced at all. You may have never taken a male lover before, but if your mouth and hands are anything to judge by so far, then your sexual prowess is far from threatened.”

“Chaos told me that despite your inexperience, he believes that you are a _natural_. I feel silly repeating this, but he also said that he feels like he’s… _your_ love slave. If you can make someone like him succumb to you in only a few days…imagine what power you will have over him within a year. I was not joking the other day when I said I think you will be able to control him better than I do…”

Sephiroth’s smirk returns as he suggests, “So what you mean to say is…if Chaos ever misbehaves…I should withhold sex from him.”

“Those are not my words exactly, but yes, essentially…you could do that and he would probably follow at your heels, drooling like a mutt and whining pathetically until you finally cave in,” says Vincent a bit louder than is normal for him.

“Oh, please, like this little kitten could resist one such as me,” rumbles Chaos as he wedges himself between his twin and lover. While he ruffles his brother’s hair with one hand, he uses the other to grope appreciatively at one of Sephiroth’s buttocks.

“Could you please refrain from molesting him in front of people?” Snaps Vincent as he shoves his twin’s hands away from his hair _and_ their mate’s backside.

Chaos crosses his arms while he laughs. “Oh, that’s rich coming from you. I seem to recall you being all over him like a rutting beast in front of Angeal, Genesis, Gigas, _and_ Galien.”

Sephiroth snickers, “To be fair, that was really my doing…”

The slighter brother sighs loudly, quickly changing the subject, “All right, your belated person is finally here. I believe you owe us an explanation as to why you have _Rufus Shinra_ of the **White Dragon clan** locked up in chains and restraints in our dungeons.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“We were out patrolling as usual—“ Begins Chaos before his brother cuts him off.

“—you mean looking for trouble,” interrupts Vincent in a deadpan voice.

The larger dragon scoffs, “Yes, whatever, same thing. As I was saying, we were out _patrolling_ our territory along the way to one of the bases to the south, Fort Condor, I think it’s called. Your boy Genesis was none the wiser though he did seem a little suspicious, but that is most likely due to the fact that I had personally requested his presence amongst us. Of course he knows I cannot stand him, which is probably why he was suspicious in the first place. So, to shorten the story a bit, we get to the base and I announce to him his new position and well…he was furious to say the least. If Angeal had not calmed him down, I would have lopped his head off or ripped his entrails out. Either way, he would have died…”

Chaos dips his feet in the cool water of the cave, feeling extra relaxed due to the trusted company of his twin brother and mate, and of course, the tranquil sound of the waterfall within the cave. Light filters lazily into the cave, providing enough light without blinding any of them.

“I bet that little bitch is still throwing a fit,” laughs Chaos.

Vincent sighs. “All right, get on with it. You stationed Genesis to the base, he had a conniption, and then what happened?”

“Nothing eventful happened for most of the day after we left the base. It was so dreadfully **boring**. I almost sparred with Gigas and Galien just to keep from falling asleep as we flew, but Angeal spotted something in the distance, heading towards Kalm, the caves, specifically. At least that is where we believed they were headed towards since there’s really nothing else besides forest and the occasional lake. Whoever they were, walked on foot and were trying to be stealthy as if they knew we were out and about. We shifted back into humanoid form and followed them at a distance for a while.  Because they were covered up by hoods and scarves, and protected by a barrier of some sort, it was difficult to figure out what they were. There was about…oh, a dozen of them and it looked like they were packing weapons and no, not the kind used to hunt animals. It was obvious to us all that these weren’t hunters or nomads; whoever they were, they had a specific destination in mind. They were smart and covert…spread out in groups of two or three person groups.

The closer they got to the caves, the more agitated I became. Because of this, I gave the order to ambush them, so we did. We managed to kill over half of their company before they even knew what had hit them. The surprise didn’t last long, though, and they all shifted into their dragon forms. White fucking dragons, of course. I went for the one that the others seemed adamant on attacking and succeeded in capturing the fucker. The ones that tried to rescue him ended up dying horribly, of course. A few of them managed to escape, but Gigas and Galien gave chase and ended up killing all except for one. The last bitch was nowhere to be found and it was growing late, so we gave up and headed home. I was…relieved to find you two outside and safe. Now that I think about it, if we had not attacked them, they would have come across you…”

The shorter dragon twin sat completely still in stony silence as he stared solemnly at his brother, listening attentively to Chaos’ tale.  By the time his brother has finished speaking, Vincent looks away, his face troubled by these turn of events.

Sephiroth watches them both, gaze switching to each twin as he absorbs the new information. He doesn’t know what to think about this at all; he just knows that his gut instinct is telling him that something is off. There’s very little he knows about these white dragons, Shinra, or even the black dragons, but something is clawing away inside of him and he doesn’t know what. For now, he opts to stay silent and to keep himself alert no matter the time of day, or where he is. He knows now that he has been foolish to dwell outside all day without little thought to what could occur with him off his guard. Normally, he is someone that stays on his guard, but lately, he has been…distracted. Some of it isn’t his fault, but he knows better and though neither of them were harmed, he still feels guilty. There’s nothing he can do about that now except keep his senses sharp. Just because he has a new protector, a guard, doesn’t mean he can be lax.

“Has anyone questioned the prisoner yet?” Asks Vincent after a long, thick silence.

“Not to my knowledge. I gave strict orders to keep the prisoner locked up and taken care of. No one is allowed to speak to him until we do, brother,” answers an earnest Chaos. For the first time since…well, ever, the bigger dragon lord’s demeanor matches Vincent’s almost perfectly. He gingerly rises up from his comfortable position and stares down at his slighter twin brother. “Shall we go talk to the rat, then?”

Vincent casts a probing glance towards Sephiroth and Chaos raises a black eyebrow up as he shrugs.

“If you are both going, I am going, too,” declares the silver-haired man as he rises up from his spot perched on a small, short cliff. He glares at both brothers as if daring them to deny him this.

“I am not opposed to your company, pet. Not at all. How about you, brother?”

The crimson-eyed man looks as if he’s contemplating this and doesn’t answer right away. The younger man’s withering glare ends up helping him to finalize his decision. He sighs, “Fine. You may accompany us…but you will do everything we instruct you. Do you understand?”

“Completely.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It takes them nearly thirty minutes of traveling through many winding corridors until they’re deep down in what is referred to as the dungeons. The dungeons are located a fair distance deep underground away from the rest of the clan. The half-elf feels dizzy from what seems like constant left or right turns until finally, _finally_ they reach the dungeons. He doesn’t know how Chaos and Vincent walk with so much familiarity without getting confused. It will be a wonder if he ever completely memorizes the layout of this entire impressive, yet mystifying place. Even so, if he’s set to having a long life in this place, he’ll definitely have the time.

The guards posted outside the door bow their heads for a split moment in respect to them before stepping aside and opening the great big, bolted metal door. Once they slip inside, Sephiroth scrunches his nose at the smell of putrid odors that permeates the air without mercy. It smells like rats, urine, and possibly waste of some kind. There are several cave-like cells with only a metal, cage-like door separating the prisoner from the rest of the dungeon. Lanterns are posted on the walls giving just enough light to illuminate the dark, drafty place. As they stride purposely, Sephiroth peers curiously into each cell only to find nothing except straw, broken ceramic bowls, dust, and sometimes bones.

Vincent and Chaos abruptly stop in front of a random cell, or not so random since it is the only cell with two alert, armed guards flanking each side of it.

“Open the door,” orders Chaos as he glares inside the dark cell at the figure chained to the wall. One of the soldiers quickly casts a spell to unlock the door and the other jumps to help him open the heavy iron barred door. It creaks and groans loudly as the two men heave it open, muscles straining as they force it open. Once the door is open, the guards both return to their original posts until they are needed again.

The twin dragon lords enter the cell closely followed by the ex-Knight Commander. The cell is small and is about twenty or so paces in every direction.

The prisoner shackled and chained to the wall by his wrists and ankles lifts his head to peer curiously at his newly arrived guests. Something that looks like a cuff-like necklace is shackled to his neck and it seems to glow a bright blue whenever he strains against his bonds. Sephiroth suspects that the necklace is enchanted somehow and is most likely being used to prevent the man from using magic or shifting into his dragon form. Said man is incredibly pale, almost as pale as Sephiroth himself and has slicked back blond hair although several locks of his hair are askew due to rough treatment. Icy, pale blue eyes peer up coldly through blond eyelashes at the black dragons with something akin to malice. It’s obvious this man, most likely the captured prisoner by the name of Rufus Shinra, is familiar enough with the twin dragons.

“Why…if it isn’t the infamous Chaos and his chewed up, broken brother Vincent. Are you two fucking yet? Or…is your wee brother  _still_ soft between the legs from what that elf did to him? She probably cut it off—“

**_WHACK!_ **

The loud sound of Rufus getting back-handed hard echoes throughout the entire dungeon followed by a grunt of pain. The blond man spits at the taller dragon lord, but ends up missing his intended target.

“ _Shut your whore mouth, Shinra, or I will rip each one of your little shriveled up balls off…and then I will cauterize it with **fire**_ ,” hisses Chaos as he digs his fingers into the white dragon’s neck until blood is drawn. Enraged golden eyes glower hatefully into pale blue orbs that mirror his emotions almost perfectly. It would seem the hatred between them was indeed mutual on most accounts.

Vincent remains standing deathly still and appears unaffected for the most part except for the clenching of his left gauntlet that betrays his ire.

The amber-eyed dragon releases Shinra’s neck none too gently as he steps back to stand beside his angry twin. He glances at his smaller brother as if looking for further instruction.

Sephiroth closes his eyes, unclenches his fists and breathes deeply to get a hold of himself by shaking off his quickly escalating rage. Once he feels calm enough, he opens his eyes and notices the blond fucker leering at Vincent knowingly. Feeling a strong, protective urge to defend the red-eyed man surges through him like blood racing through veins. Before anyone can speak another word, the half-elf steps around both men to shield Vincent from the white dragon’s unwelcome leer. He’s not at all prepared for the look of astonishment _and_ then the slow, wide smile that expands on parched, cracked lips. He doesn’t understand why this man is gawking at him as if he’s just been granted the right to rule a much coveted throne.

“Why…this enchanting creature _must_ be the one called Sephiroth. I have heard so much about you, lovely. It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” silkily purrs Rufus as he slowly eyes every single inch there is to see of the silver-haired ex-Knight.

Green eyes narrow at the pathetic excuse of a man that has the gall to size him up like a cut of juicy, fresh meat. He crosses his arms over his broad chest and bites out sarcastically, “Heard of me, have you? I do not know whether to fan myself or vomit my own guts…”

“Not only is this one a god among mortals, he has a sense of humor, too! How delightful,” chuckles Rufus as if he is talking to a dear friend beside him. He fixes his pale gaze back on the half-elf as he grins toothily like a cat with too much cream for its own good. “There are not many in this world that have not heard of you, precious. A slayer of both men, beasts, and everything in between. Said to be a demon dressed in the skin of a man, bearing a summoned sword to lay waste to all in his path with power too great to belong to a mere mortal. Oh, but you are not mortal are you? Maybe the rumor about you being a demon disguised as a human is true, after all. How splendid. But what are you doing _here_ of all places? Are you a prisoner, too, mayhap? No, no…doesn’t look that way to me. Looks like you are more of a… _guest_.”

Sephiroth has to yank back the urge to beat that shit-eating grin off of the white dragon’s smug face. Something about this man unnerves him, has his instincts screaming warnings that he cannot quite comprehend. He feels compelled to summon Masamune to end the life of this cretin, but resists the impulse since Shinra still needs to be interrogated. Instead of giving into his urges, he calmly grinds out, “My presence here is none of your concern. You should be more concerned about why _you_ are here. I think you know why you are here, so do enlighten us since we are none the wiser.”

“You know…” Begins Rufus, straining against his shackles as much as he possibly can despite the pain it brings him. “…those portraits really do you no justice at all. You are beyond divine in body and in grace. A wrathful, breath-stealing beauty that not even the gods of old can ever dare compare to. Should you wish it, I would kneel down at your feet as your slave, your servant. Your every command becoming my desire to fulfil…to please you like no other can…”

“ **ENOUGH**!” Roars Chaos, his golden eyes flashing dangerously like a demon out of hell. In a unified motion, both brothers latch onto Sephiroth to wrench him forcefully behind them. 

The half-elf blinks unfocused, glazed eyes once the sight of the white dragon is cut away from him. He feels a strange combination of disorientation, fever, vertigo, and light-headedness. All of his senses feel dull, yet overstimulated at the same time while he stands bent over, clutching his head. Something is trying to force its way inside his head, its whispers growing in volume until he can bear it no longer. He wants to scream, to rake at his own mind with his hands, but something else touches him. A cool, soothing feather light touch caresses his face like wisps of a wind against his skin. It calms him until the clawing in his head turns into scraping, to itching, and then into nothing. Blinking open watering eyes, he realizes that it’s Vincent touching his face with one hand while the other supports his body. The crimson-eyed lord gazes at him with such stifling concern that he wonders if this is what it feels like to have a mother. His throat feels parched as if he’s been deprived of water for an inordinate amount of time. His voice is hoarse as he croaks, “What…happened?”

Vincent touches his forehead to Sephiroth’s for a moment, his right hand still idly stroking the younger man’s face. When he does decide to break the silence, his voice is low and level as if he doesn’t wish to be overheard by anyone else. “I will have one of these guards escort you to Seifer and Squall. You are to remain with them until I personally fetch you. Am I clear on that?”

“What…why?” Questions the dazed, yet relaxed half-elf who is obviously not completely out of his induced stupor. He notices belatedly that they are no longer in Shinra’s cell, but are still in the dungeons at a distance that is as far away as possible from said cell.

“Just do as I say,” growls Vincent as he quickly gestures for one of the two guards to approach them. When one of the soldiers obeys his silent command, he orders, “Escort Sephiroth out of the caves and if need be, help him walk, or carry him, if you must. He needs some…air. Stay with him until his personal guard, Seifer, arrives. Am I clear?”

“Yes, milord,” answers the guard who delicately takes Sephiroth from Vincent and allows him to lean on him for support as he begins leading him out of the dungeons.

Vincent turns his attention to the second guard and then motions for him to come closer, as well. “What I need you to do is to quickly find Squall and Seifer; they should still be outside sparring, or even taking a break. I need you to bring them to Sephiroth and order them to stay with him until I arrive. After you have reunited them, I need you to fetch Angeal, Gigas, and Galien. Tell them they are needed in the prisoner’s dungeons. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly, my lord. It will be done,” replies the guard as he bows his head right before he turns on his heel and leaves with great haste.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Do you mind if I speak freely, your Grace?” Asks Seifer from his spot sitting in the grass while he sharpens his odd looking blade that Sephiroth, who’s brooding thoughts had been centering mostly on what had recently occurred, is knocked out of his head by the sound of Sefier’s voice. He glances at the blond boy, his green gaze flickering down to the blade and he cannot help thinking that it looks like an oversized kitchen knife. It has a strange handle that reminds him of a crossbow although he doesn’t quite understand what its purpose is. He next notices the three slots filled with what is undoubtedly a red, a light green, and a dark green Materia. The half-elf cannot claim to be an expert in magic, but he is no amateur, either. He knows Materia is not easy to acquire and even more difficult to master and control. Because magic is so chaotic and unpredictable, Materia is something that usually only magic-users can successfully use since technically its purpose is akin to a wand, a staff or some other type of magical implement. Since Sephiroth is part elf and Seifer is a dragon, it comes to no surprise that both of them are naturally imbued with magic in their blood. Even immortal bodies such as their own can only handle so much raw power before causing irreparable damage to said bodies. It makes more sense to use some sort of device to channel the magic without harming the user. This is why various types of magic-users use an implement of their choosing whether it’s a wand, staff, stone, Materia, jewelry, or some other enchanted device.

It’s actually kind of nice to be around people who know how to handle magic since where Sephiroth hails from, he is one of the few soldiers that has magical abilities. Besides himself, Cloud and Zack are the only soldiers that he knows that can successfully cast spells. Like him, they have Materia slotted to their weapons of choice. It is a well-kept secret that the late queen Ifalna had been a powerful, talented Sorceress and that her daughter, Aerith, has inherited many of her abilities. The people of Midgar and other countries still have no idea that the Princess of Midgar can defend herself and her people with magic.  In fact, it is thanks to Ifalna and Aerith that Sephiroth even knows how to use magic at all. Because of the late Queen and his kind sister, the half-elf is a formidable warrior that can crush a man or beast with more than just sheer muscle and blade.

“Your Grace…?”

Sephiroth snaps his attention to the blond man, quirking up a slim, silver eyebrow inquisitively. “Sorry…I was just thinking. What were you asking?”

“I was asking if I could speak freely with you, Your Grace,” repeats Seifer with no actual ire in his tone. Anyone with eyes or ears can tell that the blond dragon already has the utmost respect for the ex-Knight Commander. Despite them being relatively still strangers to one another, it is clear that Seifer already looks up to the other male. This is something Sephiroth isn’t used to since most of the time, he had always had to prove himself to his men in some way. Sure, many had feared and revered him because of exaggerated tales of his prowess and success in battle. Because of his inhuman strength and ability to wield powerful offensive magic, he has been loved and hated by many of Midgar’s people. His rising popularity among his soldiers and the civilians had earned him several fan clubs. Despite the ego-boost that such things entailed, he’s always felt different and untouchable among those humans even though at the time he had not known of his elven blood. Many thought of him as devastatingly beautiful, but were still intimidated by him, which had made it next to impossible to form intimate relationships with people. The only people he had ever felt any close kinship to had been Aerith, Zack, and Cloud. Because of this, he had often wished he had been born a normal human with average human looks. It is a strange thing to know others view you as attractive, yet to feel like an alien in your own skin at the same time. Oh, yes, he has used his looks to stupefy people before, mostly in battle or to scare off many of Aerith’s grabby, obnoxious suitors. Even now, he utilizes his body to titillate Vincent at any given chance. With the dragon lord, he doesn’t do it to be a cruel bastard or to earn his favor like some entitled whore. No, he does it mostly to test the other man’s self-control and so far, he is genuinely impressed. And of course, there’s the playful part of himself that enjoys this little game, or should he say, challenge, that they’re both playing at. If he cannot _know_ Vincent yet like he knows Chaos, then this is the next best thing. Hah, if he were to attempt the same thing with the bigger twin, he’d probably be mauled every second of the day…

Sephiroth hears someone coughing loudly and turns his green-eyed gaze at the smirking blond man. “You seem to zone out a lot, Your Grace. Thinking about a hot date or something?”

“Forgive me, my mind is a bit preoccupied as of late…”

Seifer shrugs at that, clearly taking no offense as he continues to care for his blade. “Can’t say I blame you. You have only been here a few days, after all, and things are different here.”

From his spot standing with his back turned towards them, Squall coughs, which suddenly reminds Sephiroth that the other dragon is still there with them. The slighter red dragon’s stormy gaze is fixed on the forest as if he’s expecting enemies to unexpectedly come bounding out from between the trees at any given moment.

Sephiroth sighs. “To answer your question, yes you can speak freely with me. You need not even ask such a thing again. Also…you can call me Sephiroth, but if that makes you uncomfortable, Ser will do. That offer extends to you as well, Squall…”

“I don’t know,” hesitates Seifer as he scratches the back of his head somewhat nervously.

“How about, when it is just us, call me Sephiroth. When other people are around, you can use that Grace title. How does that sound?” Offers Sephiroth in a compromise he believes sounds suitable enough.

“Sounds reasonable to me,” quietly says Squall who had apparently been listening to their conversation.

The blond dragon huffs, “Fine, Sephiroth it is…”

“Thank you,” murmurs the half-elf as he directs his stare towards the direction of the caves. For the umpteenth time that hour, he wonders what Chaos and Vincent are doing right now and if they’re actually getting answers to their questions. But more than anything else, he wonders what had really happened to him and why one moment he had been lucid, and then the next, a nearly deranged mess…

“So…I don’t want to offend you or anything, but…I’ve known a good many half-elves…and none of them were remotely like you. You’re…different. How, I don’t know. You just are and it’s not a bad thing. There’s just…something more to you than meets the eye, you know?” Speaks Seifer in his attempt to bring his thoughts to life. He seems frustrated by his inability to voice what he’s thinking just right. Huffing, he carefully sheathes his blade and then crosses his arms. “Forget it, it’s stupid…”

Squall peers over his shoulder at Seifer and raises a dark eyebrow once he notices the other dragon’s clear distress.

Jade eyes focus on the setting sun as it slowly lowers in the sky, allowing darkness to begin trickling in unnoticed. “No…it is not stupid, Seifer. You are right…something about me, inside me, even…is _different_ …”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. Also, just like the tags indicate, tags MAY change over time. For example, there may be incest in this story at some point.


	7. Disintegration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware some angst, madness and a somewhat shorter chapter. Sorry, guys, but pumping out 12,000 or more words once a week, every week, isn’t easy for me. Last week, TDB was over 6,000 and UTS was over 9,000. So yeah, sometimes the chapters may be shorter or longer though I do try to get out 6,000 for some reason. ._.

 

_One Week Later_

 

There’s a slight chill to the air that goes unnoticed by Sephiroth as he drops his sword on the bank of a small lake before dropping to his knees near the edge of the water. As he leans over to peer closer, he supports his body by clutching onto a large stone in the water. He cups his left hand in the water and begins bringing it to his mouth to quench his parched mouth and throat. The ex-Knight abruptly ceases all movement when he catches a glimpse of himself in the water cradled in his hand. He wrenches his hand as if he has been burned by fire or bitten by a snake. Stumbling backwards away from the shore of the lake, his left hand blindly fumbles for the hilt of his long, elegant blade until long, yet strong fingers finally grasp it. He breathes deeply for a few minutes trying to psyche himself into looking since he’s afraid of what he will see. Inwardly, he screams at himself for his cowardice over something that either is or is not true. Clenching his teeth hard enough to crunch through bone, he lifts Masamune up to eye level and looks at the reflective steel. His eyes stare back at him, yet they are not his eyes. They cannot be…since they are the eyes of a _demon_.

With a snarl, he flings his sword away and begins pacing the shoreline like a caged, restless animal while he pulls at his hair. His breathing is fast and uneven to the point that he’s hyperventilating, which in itself is a very uncommon occurrence for him. Ever since he can remember, he has dealt with everything in his life calmly while holding tight to the reigns of his control since that is the only way he knows how to deal with problems. Or was, more like. Whatever he once was seems to be slowly shattering, splitting apart into something he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to become.

And oh, the voices taunt him, they tempt him. These voices always seem to attack out of nowhere, whispering nothing and everything in his ears, in his head in a terrible, guttural language he does not know. Despite not understanding their meaning, he does not trust these silky, often venomous voices that seem hell bent on something that he does not understand. Even when they speak in Common, he still does not understand what lies behind the promise of their dark, feverish words. He doesn’t care to know what they want from him and why. All he wants is for those gods damned voices to disappear back into the abyss where they most likely come from.  

He knows madness doesn’t just strike a person unexpectedly and that these voices could belong to a separate entity, be it a demon, devil, or some other impish creature with ill will. It could also be some spell cast on him, but no, that was already ruled out by the various magic-users the twin lords had summoned. Something is there, he isn’t crazy. Even the magic-users had confirmed that something is inside him, leaking out, trying to make itself known. They had all been baffled by such a thing since whatever is inside him, _is_ magic, but isn’t at the same time. Something had been done to him, but what? This had all started the moment Rufus Shinra had spoken to him, or more like, _sweet talked_.

After that day, Sephiroth rarely had any privacy and was almost in the company of someone trustworthy. Vincent and Chaos seemed skittish around him, or more like, afraid he would be the one to spook since the day before, he had freaked out, apparently, although he doesn’t even remember it. Even Chaos, the one who loves to fight, fuck, and joke around, seemed concerned. For a few days, he rarely left Sephiroth’s side except for the times the twins would march to the prisoner’s dungeons to continue interrogating Shinra. When they weren’t around, Squall and Seifer were there and sometimes even Yuffie herself. It was sad that he actually welcomed that woman’s shrieking voice because sometimes it helped drown out the voices.

Chaos also seemed reluctant to initiate anything other than non-sexual cuddling, which was very unlike him. After a few days and nights of this, Sephiroth had cornered him in his bathing chambers with every intention of gaining back his interest. For whatever reasons, he craved touch more than usual, and would not be denied this. Sephiroth had half expected Chaos to put up a fight, but the moment he sank onto the larger man’s lap and kissed him, the golden-eyed male had succumbed to him like a starving beast. It was that night and several others that caused him to realize that being fucked by Chaos forced away the voices completely, making them temporarily retreat back into what he assumes is darkness.

Something else he came to realize that helped him cope tremendously was the soothing touch of Vincent’s hands. Whenever those hands touched him in some sort of caress whether it was a simple touch to his face or the petting of his hair, he felt the voices ebb away into the abyss again. Whenever a nightmare woke him, or those damned voices, he immediately clung to Vincent like a child would his mother. This action always woke up the crimson-eyed lord since he was a light sleeper, yet he never complained nor did he push him away. Every time it happened, he drew the slightly smaller male into his arms even more tightly and whispered soothing words of comfort into a pointed ear until Sephiroth eventually feel back into slumber.

Sephiroth had also figured out that strenuous activity like sparring with an opponent, or working out his body helped distract him from the madness creeping into his head. It helps to keep the demons at bay, which is why he’s outside training himself to exhaustion every day.

A familiar deep, low voice murmurs into his ear, “Calm yourself, Sephiroth…”

With a jerk, the half-elf looks at the man now standing beside him, stroking the small of his tapered back. He’s a bit startled since he had not even noticed the other man approach him. This seems to happen every now and then whenever the voices become too insistent. He thinks that if Zack were here, even that silly human would be able to sneak up on him without him being none the wiser. That does chink at his pride a bit since he has always prided himself on being on his best guard. But what is pride anyway? The more time he spends here among these dragons, the more he is learning that pride is worthless and does nothing to benefit him. In fact, it very well may be one of the various things harming him.

“I am calm,” sighs Sephiroth as he feels arms wrapping loosely around him from behind. He has to fight the desperate urge to sag back completely against Vincent. Notwithstanding his fatigued mind and body’s desire to shut down for a little while, he ignores the need. After all, both of them are standing out in the open and there’s no telling what may happen if he decides to be careless. Even when he trains for hours or spars with someone else, he still keeps his guard up lest someone dares take advantage of a possible distraction.

“Yes… _now_ you are. You were not before.”

Sephiroth pulls out of the older man’s arms to turn around and face him. He stands just inches away, his face level with Vincent’s despite the inch or two the dragon has on him. The half-elf stares with unblinking, completely open eyes as if to give the other a chance to get a better look at them. “Do you see something wrong with my eyes…or am I just seeing things now?”

“There is nothing wrong with your eyes,” quietly affirms Vincent.

“I see…”

The silver-haired man feels sinking disappoint at that answer because if this isn’t real, then this means that he is indeed losing his mind no matter what everyone else claims. If these voices and his change in appearance are things only he can hear and see, then maybe he is crazy. Even if it is by someone else’s design, what can he do it fight it? Fighting it isn’t what he finds daunting at all; it’s the idea that in this battle, he might end up hurting someone else by accident. If he’s not as sane, as rational as before, what is to stop him from impaling the wrong person on his sword?

This epiphany causes him to feel no small amount of strife on his part since…he is already attached to these people. As homesick as he feels at times for Midgar, the half-elf has grown to respect and admire these dragon people and their ways despite the scant amount of time spent here. Perhaps it’s because of how these people easily accept him into their world without asking for much in return. He’s given respect without having to decimate entire armies and he’s treated like a person and not some revered hero or saint. In Kalm, he feels as if he truly belongs and is a part of this strange, yet not so strange world. There is a part of him that has felt at home here ever since he’d stepped foot in this place. It’s the same part of himself that feels the undisputable, natural desire to fall to his knees, to kneel before the dragon lord brothers. It is not something he has ever felt before for anyone else, not even for King Gast. Even his father had to earn his trust and his right to command his half-breed son. Sephiroth had not always been so obedient and eager to please anyone. There had been a time when he had been a bit of a wild child, like a little demon…

_The Silver Demon of Wutai_. Maybe his sins are coming back to remind him of the countless lives he had taken for the kingdom of Midgar and supposedly for the Goddess herself. Perhaps this is his punishment for the lives he had laid waste to for a cause he had barely understood, if at all. Not every life had belonged to a soldier. Some had been civilians fighting back to help the soldiers defend their lands, their people. It had been a desperate, ugly war full of reckless, self-righteous hate. Like most wars, it was unclear as to whom was in the right since every side always claimed to be right, to be the protagonist fighting against a brutish, antagonistic monster. Of course, Sephiroth had no illusions that Wutai had been pure and innocent. No, they had surely and purposely goaded Midgar into a war. The leaders had not been innocent, but their people had been. Like most of the populace of Midgar, most of the Wutaians had not even desired a war on their lands or even on Midgar’s. It was always the greed of the leaders of a nation that sparked war even if they had to resort to twisting lies in their propaganda to incite countless people to die for their despicable, avaricious cause. It was always the young soldiers on the front lines, and the civilians, mostly peasants, that were caught in the web of endless, hateful conflict. They were the ones who suffered the most, who died alone, scared, and in agony on the chaotic battlefield and in their own burning homes or on the blood soaked streets while the royals, nobles, and bureaucrats remained safe in their castles and fortresses eating and sleeping happily.

So yes, looking back now, Sephiroth cannot doubt that maybe he’s being punished for not dying and for carrying out the ordered, pointless deaths of innumerable soldiers that had been no different than his own. Perhaps this is what he truly deserves and if his madness is his punishment, then he needs to leave before he hurts someone else. The selfish part of himself longs to stay, to desperately cling to the comfort so freely given to him even though he does not deserve it. The comfort that had never been given to him as a child…except for a few times the late Queen Ifalna had held his hand as a child during his worst moments. For whatever reasons, that woman had kept a watchful eye on him despite her carefully measured distance.

“No matter how you change, you will still be beautiful to me,” interrupts Vincent from Sephiroth’s internal brooding as if he’s aware of the dark place the other is swimming in.

“What do you mean?” Asks Sephiroth, stepping back a foot or two since suddenly the older male’s intense proximity feels a bit too suffocating to him at the moment.

“Your eyes are still beautiful to me. Even if your pupils completely disappear, or your eyes turn milky from blindness, they will still be the eyes of someone I…” Trails off the raven-haired man, turning his face away when he comes close to admitting something he’s not ready to reveal just yet. He curses darkly in frustration under his breath while scrubbing at his flushed face with one hand.

Although he surely notices the near slip up on Vincent’s part, he doesn’t dare push to know more about it since well, whatever it is, he’s quite certain that the other man will divulge what it is eventually. Instead, he ignores it in favor for inquiring, “You can see it? Then why did you say…”

“You asked me if there was something wrong with your eyes. I see nothing wrong, that is no lie. There is something different about your pupils, yes, but nothing I would label as monstrous, or wicked. Chaos and I noticed this change several days ago. Neither of us mentioned it because…it does not bother us and does not seem like a direct risk to your overall health. Truthfully, we are both more concerned about what is going on in your _head_ …”

Sephiroth turned away, crossing his arms as he watched the sun slowly lowering in the sky, obscured by some clouds. Despite Vincent’s assurances that there isn’t anything wrong with his eyes, he still stubbornly persists with his own beliefs on the matter.

“How can you say that? I look like a _demon_ …”

“Believe you me…you are no demon, nor do you look it, so get that silly notion out of your head.  I have encountered demons before and if you had, too, you would not think such a thing about yourself. I do not know why your pupils are slits now, or how that came to be, but I do know you are not a monster. If you are a monster, then that means Chaos, our people, and I are monsters…”

The outraged half-elf instantly protests, “You are not monsters!”

Vincent strides forward to stand beside the slighter male without touching him, but close enough to if he wants to. “I know that, but do you?”

“Yes, yes, I know,” sighs the jade-eyed man.

“Then know this, you are one of us now, and you always will be, even in death. If you are thinking about running away, or doing something else even more drastic, then be warned that if you do…we will find you and drag you back whether you are willing or not. Kalm is your home now and you have pledged yourself to us. I do not wish to threaten you, and this is no threat, but just know, should you disappear and we cannot find you, or worse, you get yourself killed, then…our allegiance to the people of Midgar will be _nullified_. I do not exactly know what is going on in your head, but I know you well enough to know that you are an honorable man willing to sacrifice yourself in any way for the well-being of others…”

“How can you say **that** is not a threat?” Spits out Sephiroth as he turns quickly to angrily face the darker-skinned male.

Vincent appears unfazed by the younger man’s anger as he continues to stand his ground, his visage perfectly placid despite the pain swirling in his crimson orbs. “Let me put it another way…if your affliction was placed on another instead of on you…let us say on me or Chaos…or even that sister of yours, would you accept our disappearance or our suicide? Would you not suffer knowing that someone you care about is out somewhere all alone, possibly suffering a great agony? Would you go about your days as if nothing is eating you alive and would you sleep well at night without being plagued by unrelenting nightmares? Could you live with yourself knowing you did nothing? Can you honestly look me in the eye and claim you would not support and protect us in our time of need?”

The previous burst of rage evaporates almost as quickly as it had arrived. Sephiroth’s shoulders slump in defeat as he turns away, quickly wiping away the buildup of moisture in his eyes lest a tear actually dare escape. He knows Vincent is right and he knows he’s being a hypocrite by expecting less from them than they do from him. If he were in their place, he knows without a doubt he would feel something similar and would offer them similar comfort, protection, and support. After all, he has been thinking about running away just to protect them from himself.

“Tell me, Sephiroth, those voices you hear…are they always around? Do you hear them now?”

Head hanging, the half-elf lowly mutters, “No…they come and go. I told you this already…”

“Why do you think that is?” Pushes Vincent as he draws closer to the somewhat shaking male.

“I do not know. Perhaps being distracted helps blur them out?” Suggests the half-elf with a limp shrug.

“Your mind is not as fragile as you believe it to be. I have watched you closely this past week and have noticed that you draw strength from _focusing_ on things you excel at or find comfort in. The way you wield your sword, for example. You have trained, sparred, and fought with your sword for many years that it is like breathing to you. The way you move and calculate your opponent’s moves is that of a seasoned warrior. You are confident in your abilities, that much is clear. I do not believe it is the distraction that is helping you…it is the _focus_. When you focus on something specific, the entity that assaults you loses power over you. Even something as simple as an embrace or holding hands is enough because it gives you a warm, comforting feeling to focus on.”

Silver eyebrows furrow together pondering Vincent’s words as he watches a few bats flapping in the darkening, red sky. He appreciates the time to think everything over while the older man stands beside him in companionable silence. When he thinks he has his thoughts in order, he turns to the dark-haired dragon and breaks the silence.

“This thing, this entity, you believe it is trying to break my mind down, to drive me insane, but to what end? What sort of purpose would that serve?”

“I do not know. Perhaps someone, Shinra, I think, holds a grudge towards you, or most likely towards my brother and I, and seeks to ruin us by ruining you. Or there could be an ulterior motive, possibly. One less obvious and more malicious. I cannot claim to know the entity’s motive, but I do know that you can fight it. You are a strong man, stronger than I, and I believe in you. Because of you…I…I can _feel_ again. Tomorrow…does not seem so bad and neither does the day after. I do not know what the future holds, but for the first time in a long time, I want to find out…with you by my side.”

“Not going to give up on me, eh?”

“No, and neither is Chaos…or Yuffie, Cid, Angeal, Seifer, and Squall. Nor your friends back in Midgar. They are all fond of you more than you know. Which reminds me,” speaks Vincent who then hands a sealed letter over to the younger man. “This arrived for you some hours ago. I would have given it to you sooner, but you looked…busy, so I did not dare interrupt…”

“Liked watching me sweat and strain all day, hm?” Comments Sephiroth as he none too gently rips open the letter addressed to him and begins reading it.

Vincent coughs, turning his back to the other male and doesn’t dignify that statement with a response.

 

The half-elf stares at the letter, offering a genuine, tender smile until he catches the postscript.

 

“There is no way in Ifrit’s balls I am telling her about my sex life,” snorts Sephiroth with a shake of his head even though he is oddly amused by her audacity.

Vincent lifts up an inquisitive brow at his mate’s comment, but doesn’t dare ask. He grunts when the letter is shoved against his chest. Sighing, he gingerly takes the offered parchment from the younger man.

“Go on, read it,” encourages the half-elf as he walks to the water’s edge and crouches down to cup water into his hands to drink.

After the raven-haired man is finished reading, he carefully folds the letter and hands it back to the green-eyed male. “She is a sweet girl, this sister of yours…”

“Do not worry, I will not deflower her eyes. If she wants to know such things, she will have to gossip with the other ladies. Not that I want her to, but she is a grown woman, after all.”

The dragon lord smiles at that and pats the shorter man on the shoulder as if in consolation. “Sounds wise to me. Now come along, you need to eat…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

A few hours later, Sephiroth lays wide awake and restless between the two slumbering twins. Although his body is worn out, his mind refuses to allow him any rest at all. It is not voices badgering him at this late hour, but his own restive, racing thoughts. Try as he might, he cannot force away the anxiety of his overactive mind.

After an hour or two of no success, he gingerly extracts himself from both males to rise up from the bed, taking great care not to wake them. Before he can take a step, he hears the unmistakable sound of Vincent’s quiet, yet groggy sounding voice, “Where…are you going?”

“ _To piss…unless you would rather I do it on you?_ ” Whispers Sephiroth, smirking at the thought. Despite his mirth, he really hopes neither of them has a urine kink. He personally cannot stand the pungent smell of it, be it man or beast urine.

Vincent sighs, “Hurry back…”

“ _Yes, Ser. I intend to…”_ the half-elf whispers before he quietly slips out of the chambers to pad into the bathroom. As he relieves himself, his thoughts drift to Rufus Shinra and if the man is even still alive. Both dragon lords, when asked, had assured him that he was alive and that progress was being made and not to worry about anything. After his last encounter with Shinra, they had been hesitant to allow him to approach that creep again and with good reason, too. Good reason or not, he needs answers and he’s tired of waiting. This is probably a foolish move on his part, but it’s the only chance he has to question that wretch.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Ah…what a lovely surprise. They told me that you would not come to visit again…how happy I am that they were wrong. Tell me, pet, do they know that you are here? Of course not. Such fierce things, they are. Are they both fucking you, or is it just the bigger one? I can smell them both on you…and I wonder…does it hurt? Do they violate you without your consent? _Tsk, tsk_ …they do, don’t they? How distasteful, I would not do that to you,” purrs Shinra, leaning forward as far as he possibly can. He leers at the half-elf with only one pale eye since the other is swollen shut from a nasty looking black eye. The blond man is covered almost completely in unsightly bruises and deep gashes that are still bleeding, albeit superficially.

“Shut your whore mouth, Shinra,” hisses Sephiroth as he glares vehemently at the white dragon. He keeps at least five feet of space in-between them even though he feels the temptation to smack the gloating man. The sight of the obviously tortured, injured man cools his desire for violence.

“Hit a sore spot, did I?”

Sephiroth ignores that in favor of getting right down to business. Every second counts, he knows. He had been pleasantly surprised when the guards had not barred his way into the cell. Fortunately for him, they had let him through when he had ordered them to; however, one had remained outside the cell while the other followed Sephiroth inside to stand against the wall to keep a closer eye on the white dragon. 

“Tell me why you are here,” demands the less than amused half-elf.

“Why, I am here for _you_ , precious…”

 “I am not here to flirt or play games with you. Answer my questions or I am leaving,” Sephiroth threatens as he curls his lip in aversion.

Rufus grins, his cold eye fixed on the silver-haired ex-Knight Commander. “I speak the truth, young one. I am here for you…to bring you _home_.”

“Here for me? Why? What are you playing at?”

“You and I…are meant to be _together_ …to make the world burn, to scream…so beautifully and completely. Not even the gods can stop the destruction that is certain to ravage both mortals and immortals alike. Villages, cities, castles, farms, forests, and even mountains will burn for us, in honor of us. The world is ours for the taking…and take it, we shall. Together… **nothing** will stop us, can stop us. It will be… _divine_ …”

“You are speaking nonsense,” growls Sephiroth as he clenches his hands into tight fists. Even if his words are the truth, they do nothing but incite revulsion.

“Am I? Have you not heard my promises… _whispering_ to you…all week?”

At the mention of whispered promises, Sephiroth begins hearing the same, twisted voices hissing into his ears and head, surrounding him like twisting snakes. He closes his eyes against the assault and it’s at that moment that he remembers Vincent’s words to him at the lake.

_Focus. He will focus. He **must** focus…_

As the voices claw frantically at him, growing in volume and pitch, he concentrates on the feel of how Masamune always feels gripped in his left hand. He recalls how it feels to slice through the air and through flesh and bone. Images of other things flash through his head like the soft, sweet smile of his sister and the kind smile Angeal always offers him. He then focuses on how passionate and mind-blowing sex with Chaos always is and how that man can make him smile or laugh even at the stupidest things. That makes him picture Zack and his goofy, contagious smile and even Cloud’s small, shy smile.

The voices are enraged as they attempt to assault his mind with their piercing shrieks. There are no longer any words, just furious screams and hisses at his nerve to ignore them. He keeps right on focusing on other things that gives him strength, like the sheer thrill of sparring against worthy opponents like Squall and Seifer. The way they never hold back and how they give him their all every single time. He then thinks of Yuffie’s carefree, accepting personality, and how like a little sister she acts towards him while her mate, Cid, swears like a sailor and acts crustily despite how soft-hearted they both know he is. This makes him picture Vincent and how every comforting touch and word causes him to gravitate closer to the more reserved twin. He feels the sorrow etched deeply inside that man and longs to heal him, to make it all go away someplace else permanently. There’s also the flame burning between them that seems to burn more brightly as time passes. It’s at that moment he recalls that ever since his arrival in Kalm, Vincent has always looked after him with care and respect. Chaos has, too, in his own way, but Vincent’s care…is different, almost paternal in a way, but not quite. He next remembers the crimson-eyed lord revealing that he burns for him, and Sephiroth knows he yearns for him too. So much so he is willing to wait until the end of time just to become one with said man…

It takes Sephiroth a moment or two to realize that the voices have ebbed away back into the void. His eyes snap open and he fights back the urge to smirk when he notices the less than pleased expression on Shinra’s pale, bloodied face.

“Yes…I have heard your promises…and I am not interested in the slightest. So kindly fuck off,” growls Sephiroth before he turns on his heel to leave. His body freezes in place once he notices the disheveled, incensed looking Vincent standing in the doorway of the cell. Those crimson eyes are sweltering with such fury that Sephiroth thinks that if looks could damn a person…then he would be burning in hell right about now.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

**[Here's the text version just in case the pictures don't show on your computer or you have issues reading the font type]**

Dearest Sephiroth,

I hope your new life among the Black Dragons is treating you well. You cannot imagine the rampant joy I felt when Ser Zack returned with such wonderful news that you are to live! I cannot say I am happy about your, for lack of better words, marriage to two men. Oh my, to think that would have been my fate! Thanks to you, I will never know such a thi4ng. It is not a fate I would have wanted for you, but if anyone 4can persevere, it is you. Still, the truth that you live is enough for me to overlook almost anything. I can only hope this new life finds you well and happy. I hope no one mistreats you or makes you do anything you do not want to do. Ser Zack has nothing but kind words and praise for these people and I trust his word. I just want you to know that you can always visit, you are still welcome, and for whatever reasons, if you ever want to come back home to live with us, it will be done.

Not much has happened in your absence except for a few visiting lords and ladies that came to pay their respects. Father was delighted to hear the news that you are to live, but I thought it best to omit the part about your arrangement with Lord Chaos and Lord Vincent. I do not want him to worry about you. You may not believe this, but Father does adore and care for you. The moment he heard you were not to die, he wept with pure joy. He bid me to inquire about your health and happiness. Father forgets letters take time to be written and delivered. I am not even finished writing this letter and he is already asking me if you have written back yet!

I simply must know, what are these Dragon Lords like? Are they kind? Handsome? Regal? Are they tall and dark? Do they breathe fire? Do they treat you well? Have they any sense of humor? Oh, do write back and tell me all about them and their culture!

I fear I must cut this letter short since my time is rather limited these days. Even my garden is suffering. I hope to hear from you soon and I hope you know that you have my undying love for always.

Fondest Regards,

Aerith

P.s. Have they taken you to bed, yet? If yes, do tell and do not dare to gloss over on the details!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, sorry about the cliffy. Just kidding, I’m not sorry. Hope you all enjoyed. More is sure to come soon. 
> 
> Thought it would be different to make Aerith’s letter look like a letter with girly, elegant handwriting. May look a bit odd in the spacing, but ignore that. If you’re not seeing the images of the letter, the text version is provided at the end of this chapter.
> 
> Didn't really do a final edit (due to exhaustion and time) as I was about to post this chapter, so I hope there aren't too many mistakes. I'll probably come back and look through this chapter at some point.


	8. Absolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vin & Seph’s first real argument/fight…sorry not sorry. Had to happen sometime. I blame the sexual tension and insecurities. Some violence…and some secrets revealed. 
> 
> Sorry about the delay in updating. There was Inventory at work and now I am sick.

Though he doesn’t feel like he’s done anything wrong, he stands stock still like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar before dinner time. It is not fear or guilt that glues him in place, but that blistering look of unbridled fury burning in crimson eyes. He’s never seen Vincent this angry before and doesn’t know what to do, let alone think about it. The half-elf temporarily forgets that Shinra is several feet behind him until he hears the infuriating man chuckling mockingly.

“In trouble with _Daddy_ , huh? Looks like someone is about to receive a spanking. Oh, please do it here…I would kill to **watch** ,” jeers Rufus, laughing in spite of the pain he feels from his fractured, bruised ribs.

One motion from Vincent directed to the guard standing inside the cell prompts the guard to march forward and backhand the white dragon hard across the face, momentarily shutting him up. The soldier keeps his hand raised in the air, waiting for the prisoner to open his mouth again so that he can strike him once more.

“Seems like I am not the only prisoner here—“ Starts Shinra before he is struck again across the face by the guard.

It seems like it only takes the dragon lord two long, brisk steps forward to reach the other man. He doesn’t say a word as he seizes Sephiroth by the forearm and tugs him to follow after him as he stalks out of the cell and soon the very dungeon itself. He keeps a vice-like grip on the younger male’s arm despite said male’s loud protests and attempts to jerk himself free from that grasp.

After several long minutes of no success, Sephiroth snarls, “You do not need to drag me around like a petulant child! I am fully capable of following you on my own.”

“ ** _I beg to differ_** ,” growls Vincent lowly as he continues to walk at a fast, almost blocky pace that denotes just how angry he is.

Sephiroth has to clench his jaw and breathe deeply to refrain from spitting out anything else. Oh, he’s not done with Vincent by any means since he’s just waiting for the right moment and place. He prefers it if he’s not being forcibly dragged and to actually be face-to-face when he chooses to talk to the older man.

What feels like _hours_ to Sephiroth grinds by agonizingly before Vincent finally leads Sephiroth into a room that’s located within their personal part of the caves. At first glance, it looks like a master bedroom, but upon closer inspection, it’s more of a den for lounging in. There’s a few leather couches with end tables most likely used to set drinks and food down on. Large, dark-colored plush looking cushions, each big enough for at least two people to lay on, are littered all over the floor in random parts of the room. Lanterns fueled by oil, are mounted on the walls, casting dim, comfortable lighting that serves to add comfort to the room that’s most likely meant for relaxation and other entertainment purposes.

Sephiroth barely has time to scrutinize the room when he’s pushed down to sit on one of the couches. The black dragon stands a few feet before him, his arms tense at his sides. Not caring at all for this treatment, he quickly rises to a standing position as he glares at the raven-haired man. “What is your gods damned problem, Vincent?”

“You lied to me,” accuses Vincent as he steps closer, his entire muscled body tense as if he’s about to go to battle.

The ex-Knight scoffs at that, rolling his eyes since he refuses to be cowed by the other man’s tone and body language. “How did I lie to you? You are talking nonsense…”

“Then why did I find you in the dungeons, talking to _Shinra_? Especially when we both specifically forbade you to talk to him ever again. What were you thinking?”

“First of all, I did not lie. I actually did have to relieve my bladder, which was the first thing I did. If you were following me, which you probably were, you would have noticed that. Talking to Shinra was not premediated, believe it or not. The idea, yes, it was very impulsive...occurred to me sometime _after_ I started walking around,” explains the green-eyed man as he runs his hands through his hair, trying to reign in his temper. When he feels calm enough to speak again, he asks, “Was Shinra right? Am I also a prisoner here? I was under the impression I could go where I pleased whenever I wished. Or was that a lie on your part? Were you the one lying?”

“Of course you are not a prisoner here, Sephiroth. That is no lie,” heavily sighs Vincent as he begins to pace the room as if to help release some of his pent up tension. “We only want you to be safe and unharmed. It is not my intention nor Chaos’ to cage you in this place. We…kept you from that _vermin_ …because he was hurting you and is still trying to…”

“I am not an invalid, Vincent. I can protect myself. I am not as useless as you may believe,” growls the half-elf with his arms crossed defensively over his broad chest. It is in this moment that he realizes just how Aerith must have felt having him and others constantly around, guarding her like she was priceless glass. She may not have been trained in battle, but his sister wasn’t defenseless since she was imbued with powerful magic. Not to mention she had haggled him until he had secretly taught the princess some basic hand-to-hand combat.

Vincent grits his teeth, disagreeing, “I did not say you were useless…”

“Not outright, you didn’t, but your actions prove otherwise,” sneers the silver-haired male with a curl of his lip. He is fast becoming weary of this little spat between them. He doesn’t understand why Vincent is so angry to begin with since he had not succumbed to the voices, or even to Rufus’ tempting offer. Tempting because something about that vile man is charming in a way, and some small part of Sephiroth had felt…a pull of sorts. Still, it is weak and easy to ignore when compared to the influence the black dragon twins have over him. After all, he had walked in there, questioned Shinra, fought off the voices, _and_ had rejected Rufus Shinra’s offer. Sephiroth had conquered his demons, his madness and had figured out to some extent why Rufus is really here. Despite his success, he knows better than to believe that this is the end of everything. He’s not certain why Rufus would risk his life just to get to him, or what exactly those voices are. For all he knows, they could be restless spirits, demons, or something else entirely. He has won the battle today and if his hunch is correct, there will be more occurrences. Until then, he intends to strengthen his mind and his will as much as he possibly can. This time, he will bide his time and when they strike, he will be ready.

So just _why_ is Vincent pissed off at him to begin with? Is he really so petty to be angry because Sephiroth wandered off without him for once? If the dragon cares for his well-being like he claims he does, then he should be relieved that Sephiroth had followed his advice and in doing so, had overcome his mental attackers. This should be proof enough to the older man that he isn’t a liability and can handle himself without someone hovering over his shoulder lest he trip and fall flat on his face like an infant learning to walk.

Vincent narrows his eyes until they’re nothing but thin slits. Quick as a flash, he slams the younger male against the wall just hard enough to jar his senses momentarily. He pins him against the wall and watches Sephiroth curse loudly from having the back of his skull smash unceremoniously against the stone wall. His vision is reeling from the blow, causing bright bursts of colors behind the darkness of his eyelids while his mind swims from the throbbing pain. It’s not that bad, really, he’s been made to bear worse pain; nevertheless, the unexpectedness of the move is what truly gets to him.

“ _Listen here, boy, if I truly thought you to be useless, I would not bother with you at all_ ,” hisses the crimson-eyed man as he leans close, his face mere inches away from the other man’s. Unfortunately for him, that is the wrong move to make since Sephiroth head butts him hard, which momentarily causes Vincent to loosen his grasp on him. Shoving the hissing dragon away, he makes a break for the door when a hand grabs him by his hair and yanks him backwards against a hard body. He gasps not from the pain of his hair being yanked, but from then startling, unexpected  _pleasure_ it brings him, shooting from his scalp down throughout his entire body. Strong arms restrain him in a tight headlock that renders him temporarily powerless, but doesn’t stop him from violently writhing in an attempt to break free. The incensed part of himself considers kicking backwards right between Vincent’s legs, but the other part of himself, the _sex driven_  part, vetoes that course of action since that may irreversibly damage something he still has use for.

“You will stay away from Rufus Shinra, you will not speak to him ever again. You will not sneak off during the night, or any other time, to see him. Do you understand this?” Growls Vincent, lightly panting from the exertion of keeping the undeniably powerful ex-Knight retrained.

Even though Sephiroth has no intention of ever speaking to Shinra again, he keeps that information to himself out of spite. He feels his ire rear its ugly head from being forbidden like he is a 16-year-old girl and Vincent his reprimanding father. He vehemently spits, “Fuck you…”

The door slams open and in barges an alarmed looking Chaos, bringing in an air of annoyance at having been woken up from such rancorous noise. He immediately halts in his tracks at the sight of his mate struggling and hissing in his brother’s tiring, tensing arms.

“Release him, Vincent,” orders Chaos as he stalks closer, clearly in no mood to tolerate whatever their dispute is about. When his twin makes no move to unlock himself from the squirming half-elf, the larger dragon sighs deeply. “If this were a sex thing, I would leave, but since it clearly is not, I am not going anywhere. You…as in Vincent, are going to leave this room and cool your head off. I will remain here with Sephiroth to find out what the issue is…and when you are both calm and collected, I will send him back to you. Do not dare fight me on this…”

Vincent doesn’t look like he appreciates the intrusion or being ordered around by Chaos, yet he relents since he has no desire to fight his brother. Releasing Sephiroth, he quickly stalks out of the eerily quiet room without sparing either male another look. The door slamming shut behind him as he departs is the only indication of his silent indignation.

Chaos walks over to the nearest couch and plops down with his back to the arm rest. He slings one arm over the back of the couch as he sprawls out in a comfortable reclining position. When he’s satisfied with his placement, he glances over at the lingering half-elf. He beckons him with a wave of his arm and smiles despite the stubbornness of the wary green-eyed male.

“Come here, love. I want you relaxed and boneless when you tell me everything. I will not get angry at you, you have my word. I just need to know what happened…”

Sephiroth reluctantly walks over to the other man, but does not sit down. Instead, he stands there awkwardly while his hand rubs anxiously at one arm. Every now and then he glances over at the door as if expecting the other twin to burst in unannounced. He nearly makes an undignified yelp when he is brusquely pulled down until he’s reclining in the couch with the older man, his back pressed against Chaos’ chest. The silver-haired man feels the fight leave him completely when he feels the sensation of hot skin against his own and a hand carding languidly through his long hair.

“Now, tell me, precious…without leaving anything out, tell me what happened,” murmurs the dragon, his hand abandoning the half-elf’s hair in favor of trailing his hand lightly over the expanse of Sephiroth’s toned, smooth chest.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_20 Minutes Later…_

“I see now…” sighs Chaos, his wandering hand now caressing one of Sephiroth’s hips.

Sephiroth exhales deeply, feeling all sorts of things he doesn’t want to admit to right now, or ever. One of those things being guilt, although he doesn’t know why he should feel guilty since he believes he hasn’t done anything wrong. He sighs, “I take it that you know why he is so angry…?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I am guessing he hasn’t told you much yet?”

The half-elf shrugs. “Vincent told me something about how you hated the name your father gave you, and how you named yourself. He did not tell me the name, nor did I ask. Yuffie and Vincent both told me the late dragon lord, your father, was a vile man and that you all hated him. There was mention of him nearly bringing your clan to ruin. Other than that, I really do not know anything else…”

“Somehow, I am not surprised,” chuckles Chaos, his hand drawing indistinct patterns into the skin of the younger male’s quivering stomach. “I was originally waiting for him to tell you everything…but if I do that…then nothing will ever get resolved. I will tell you everything, if you are willing to listen, and if you swear not to tell another soul. Not even Yuffie or that sister of yours. Do I have your word?”

“You have my word, Chaos, that I will not reveal anything said here tonight to another soul, living or dead.”

“I believe you,” says the dragon, who then breathes deeply as if focusing his thoughts. “Over five hundred years ago, my brother met a she-elf cleric by the name of Lucrecia. She became our unofficial healer of sorts, since at the time, we really did need one. Over time, my brother began to actively pursue her…quite shamelessly, I might add… even though clerics are technically supposed to remain _chaste_. He grew close to her…enough to tell her that he loved her and wanted to spend his eternal life with her. She accepted, or so we all believed…”

Sephiroth closes his eyes, imagining a somewhat younger, probably unscarred Vincent and a faceless, elven woman together. He feels a spike of jealousy prick him, but ignores it since he knows the bitch is gone and is no longer a threat to them. Even though he doesn’t know her, and barely knows her name, he cannot help feeling the compulsion to toss her sorry ass in some lava or better yet, a [drider’s](http://66.media.tumblr.com/dbdc46cf0c4304984df3ece25431752c/tumblr_nj6070QlqX1rqiworo1_1280.png) den. The story of her treachery has barely begun and already he knows it’ll get worse as Chaos talks. There’s a sickening, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that gives him second thoughts about hearing more about it; however, the desire to know more, to understand Vincent better outweighs any misgivings he may have.

“Eventually, Lucrecia revealed to us that she was _expecting_. Naturally, Vincent was overjoyed by such news and looked after, well, more like, _pampered_ her like she was his mate. I will not lie…I was not happy by the news, because I never liked that elf…but I was happy for my brother. The only other person that was not thrilled by the news, besides me, was…our _father_ ,” continues Chaos, who then pauses to spit at the mention of his father. “While Vincent was on cloud nine, Mother and I were busy dealing with…her agitated, irrational mate. The decisions he was making caused unnecessary causalities on our side over pointless conflicts that gained nothing but strife. The bastard even aliened our trade partners, causing all trade between our clan and other peoples to come to a grinding halt. It was getting so bad that many of our people had begun talking about joining other clans to escape Hojo’s madness—“

“— _Hojo_?” Interrupted Sephiroth because he has never heard that name before and isn’t completely certain who the name belongs to. He has his suspicions, but he never likes to assume, so better to interrupt now than sit there feeling stupid for a lengthy duration of time.

“Oh, sorry, yes, that was the name of our father. **Hojo**. This is probably the first time anyone, including myself, has mentioned it in well over five hundred years,” patiently answers Chaos with no offense taken at being interrupted mid speech. When the silver-haired male says nothing else, he continues, “After a while, Lucrecia began to show that she was indeed pregnant. She seemed fine for a while, but one day, she became hysterical and didn’t stop crying for several hours. When my brother finally got her to calm down, she revealed to him that she had miscarried their child. He tried to comfort her, but she pushed him away and dashed off to gods knows where. Over the next few weeks, she would steal away during the night and return early before the sun rose. My brother is a light sleeper, as you are well aware, and he noticed her leaving each night. Thinking she just needed some time alone, he let her be until he noticed a peculiar mark on her neck. Instantly suspicious, he chose to follow her one night and walked in on her having sex with Hojo, of all people…”

The half-elf feels his stomach twist, causing bile to rise up from his stomach. He has to swallow it down to keep from vomiting on the spot. The acrid, repulsive taste makes him cringe and he instantly longs for something to take the taste away, like some type of mint.

“Dragon Lord or not, that did not absolve Hojo from committing such an act of betrayal. It was the first time I had ever seen my brother lose to his temper like that, to be honest. He was shouting so loudly and angrily that our mother heard him and followed his voice to also happen upon the scene of her husband’s infidelity. Unmentionable, hateful words were exchanged by them all save Lucrecia…which was soon followed by my brother’s challenge to our wretched father’s right to rule. Lucrecia fled the scene as Hojo and Vincent fought like demons. I…didn’t make it in time to save our mother, unfortunately. She…had taken a blow meant to kill my brother. I will give him credit for actually looking like he gave a fuck when he realized he had killed his own mate, but nothing more than that. Before he could recover from his shock and land a killing blow on my brother, I tore him utterly apart until there was nothing but entrails and blood splattered everywhere,” growls Chaos, his voice thick with old rage and hate that will probably never vanish completely. He immediately calms himself down when he notices how tense the other man feels and once Sephiroth relaxes again, the dragon lord resumes, “Me and some others had done everything we could to help Vincent…but because Lucrecia had disappeared…and she had been the only one with strong healing magic…it took him _weeks_ to recover from his wounds. Had someone like Lucrecia been there, he would not be scarred as he is now and his recovery wouldn’t have taken long at all. You know…he nearly lost his left arm and barely has feeling in it. He can move and operate it just fine, but the majority of it feels numb to him, and has ever since. Because of those stupid, heartless **_fucks_** …we lost our mother and I nearly lost my brother. He almost _died_ …”

Sephiroth opts for silence as he stares up with unfocused eyes at a miniscule crack on the ceiling. The guilt he had been feeling earlier returns twofold because now he knows why he should feel it. Although he had not intended any harm on his part, he had unwittingly opened up an old, decrepit door within Vincent that had been locked for many years. He wonders if that man suffers nightmares while he sleeps and if he does, he wonders if he remembers them when he wakes up. The half-elf wonders this because he knows if it were him, he would be plagued with bad dreams. After all, sometimes Sephiroth sees the twisted faces of the ones he’s killed in his dreams and sometimes…he hears the gentle voice of a woman saying his name and touching his face before she dissipates like smoke into the sky. Sometimes dreaming of her is worse than the countless dead because he always feels unbearably hollow and forsaken whenever he wakes up. 

“So you can see why…he overreacted when he found you with Shinra. I am certain it brought back bad memories and unhinged his faith in you, in life, in everything…quite a bit. You are not that elf, that much I am certain of. But right now, he sees her in your face and his paranoia is making him believe you will reject him for Shinra…”

The ex-Knight Commander feels repulsed by the idea of touching that vile white dragon. He curls his lip in disgust at such a thought and then shakes his head. “I would _never_ …”

Chaos smiles and leans forward, arms snaking around the smaller male’s mid-section. He rests his chin on Sephiroth’s shoulder and says, “I know and…despite it all, this is not your fault. You did not know. You did what you believed was right, and I cannot say you were wrong. You did what you could to deal with your personal demons and he should do the same. He must do the same. I believe you can do what I failed to do…”

“If you say so. He has barely known me that long. You…he has known all his life,” mumbles Sephiroth.

“Time has no bearing on the soul, Sephiroth. My brother cares for you, just as I do…and I believe he loves you. You are the second person he has ever opened himself up to in such a way. I believe you can mend his rift. You are nothing like that despicable she-elf. Now…go to him and _talk_ …”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It takes Sephiroth over an hour to track down the elusive Vincent thanks to Yuffie’s help. Fortunately, he had run into her by accident and she had obligingly pointed him in the right direction…well, more like tugged him by the arm rather insistently until he followed her.

“Did ya guys have a fight or something?” Asks Yuffie as she leads Sephiroth through a secret passageway he’s never been through before.

“I suppose,” murmurs the half-elf, not really in the mood to talk since he is in brood mood due to Vincent’s avoidance of him.

“You suppose?! Hah! He looked really fucking pissed when I saw him heading towards this passageway,” snickers the female dragon who then stops laughing after receiving a sharp glare form the ex-Knight. She shrugs, “I am one of the few that know about this place. Vince always comes here…when he’s in one of his _moods_. This is the first time he’s visited this place since you first arrived…”

Sephiroth gazes up at the fifteen-foot ceiling in slight awe at the countless arctic white, pale blue, cerulean, and azure colored crystals of differing sizes that serve to dimly light up the narrow passageway. He’s seen similar ones all throughout the caves, but they seem far more abundant and ethereal here for whatever reasons. Something about this place feels lonely and melancholic as they walk through it, which makes him wonder what the chamber this channel leads into looks like inside…

“I don’t like it here…it’s so sad,” quietly admits the short female as she rubs at her arms like she is cold. This is probably the lowest he has ever heard her speak. Even though it pleases his ear drums, her sullen, soft voice makes him feel a sense of unease.

The jade-eyed man nods to her, silently agreeing with her feelings on this strange place. “What is this place?”

“…it’s a tomb,” mumbles Yuffie, not meeting his gaze while she continues almost frantically rubbing at the gooseflesh of her slender arms.

“A _tomb_? Why would he be in a tomb?” Inquires the skeptical hybrid, both eyebrows raised.

“Because this is where the Dragon lords, their mates, and children get placed when they pass onto the next world. That means, his mother is here. I think he feels comforted by their presence or something. It is said that sometimes their spirits come to visit this place, but I’m not about to find out if that is true or not,” Yuffie explains while her body shivers uncontrollably. She then grumbles, “Seph, how are you not cold?”

Sephiroth lays a hand on her shoulder to stop her from progressing any further. He shakes his head. “You do not have to continue if you do not want to. I will find him from here. Thank you for showing me the way.”

“No problem! You should come have dinner with us sometime. You’re always welcome, y’know, no matter what my stupid mate says. He likes you, too. He thinks when you’re around, he has some power, but he doesn’t. I wear the pants, baby!” Exclaims the female dragon as she hugs him around the middle. She then mutters about stupid, tall people when she’s once more reminded just how tall he is compared to her. The dark-haired female scowls when she feels him pat her on top of her head condescendingly like she’s a little child. She smacks his offending hand away and turns from him, marching back the way they had come.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Ten minutes later, Sephiroth reaches an open, circular doorway that bears no door. Instead, the opening is sheathed in glimmering, pearly blue light that reminds him of a force field mages tend to use for protection. He stops just outside the door and slowly reaches over, tentatively touching it with the tip of his right forefinger. He’s mildly surprised it doesn’t shock or harm him in any way. In fact, it almost feels like a cool, ticklish caress of some kind. He next attempts to place his finger through the barrier and sighs when it lets him through. The half-elf then gingerly steps through the barrier until he’s completely standing on the other side. The chamber is enormous; the ceiling reaching at least fifty feet high while the room is around twenty feet wide across. As far as he can tell, from where he is standing, the chamber stretches maybe 60-80 feet in length.

The ceiling is a mixture of colors swirling together slowly that reminds Sephiroth of the Northern Lights, something he had witnessed once when he had traveled up north to North Corel. It was a land of ice and constant temperatures usually freezing below zero. For whatever reason, temperature was never something that particularly bothered him as much as it bothered other people. Sure, he still feels when it’s hot, warm, cool, or cold; it just doesn’t affect him to the same extent as it affects other people. Which is probably why it was possible for him to walk around that frozen wasteland in his usual leather ensemble without freezing to death.  

What is truly phenomenal is the boulder-sized cavities dug into the walls that are filled with some sort of crystal growth. It’s like someone had purposely carved them out and filled them with crystal. Upon closer inspection, Sephiroth can spot people of varying ages and genders suspended in almost every single crystal enclosure. These people appear to be sleeping, but since Yuffie referred to this as a tomb, he figures they must be… _dead_. These crystals of assorted colors, whatever they are, seem to be preserving the dead, making them appear to be only sleeping. Higher up, he sees ledges that allow people to stand before the crystal enclosures with carved ladder-like grooves that allow people to climb up if they chose to. He also notices that the empty crystal chambers seem to be filled with what looks like dark, yet glittering silhouettes of people. He also notes that the crystals aren’t actually different colors since they all seem to be changing color as if perhaps symbolizing life. The half-elf mentally reminds himself to ask Vincent about this and more later on when he has the chance to.

Sephiroth continues to walk through the chamber, gazing in wonderment at the sleeping faces encased in iridescent crystals, that he doesn’t notice that he’s not exactly alone. He’s jerked out of his daze when a quiet, echoing voice startles him out of seemingly nowhere.

“It has been a long time since another has come to pay their respects, besides me, of course…”

The silver-haired man looks around until he spots Vincent perched on a ledge at the very end of the room, attached to a wall all the way at the top. His back rests against the wall with one leg bent and an arm slung over his knee. The dragon’s head is inclined to the side as he watches the younger man with an unreadable expression on his calm visage.

“Yuffie said this is a tomb,” awkwardly starts Sephiroth since he’s not certain how to get himself talking about what he really came here for. He stands in place, not sure if he should approach or not even though the crimson-eyed male appears placid.

“Come here,” simply says Vincent as he rises up from his sitting position to stand near the edge of the ledge. When Sephiroth is less than ten feet away, he flips in the air and lands almost catlike before the surprised half-elf. A barely there half-smirk reveals itself when he notices the look on the fair-skinned man’s face. He then snakes an arm around Sephiroth’s waist tightly and bends his knees before he springs up high in the air, their manes billowing around them as they ascend. The dragon’s half-smirk widens just a bit when he feels the younger male clinging to him as if his life depends on it, and in a way, it does. It’s not long before he lands nimbly on the generous niche, but keeps his arm wrapped around the other just in case he loses his footing. He adjusts their positions so that they’re facing the crystal encasing the form of a beautiful, dark-haired woman who bears a striking resemblance to Vincent _and_ Chaos. Eyes bearing long, dark lashes are closed and full lips slightly parted as if indicating that she’s only in a deep slumber.

“Is this…your mother?” Quietly asks Sephiroth after a long, respectable stretch of silence has passed. He could very well be wrong and this may be someone else, a sister, or something, but no one has ever mentioned another sibling to him. Then again, there is still a lot that he does not know and every day, he seems to stumble upon something new and unexpected.

“Yes,” answers Vincent without taking his eyes off of her, both reverence and anguish etched clearly on his striking face. He reaches over and presses a hand gently over her face against the surface of the crystal. “Sometimes…when I come here…I like to pretend that she is really alive…that she is only sleeping. And...sometimes, if I listen closely enough, I can almost hear her voice in my head…”

Sephiroth doesn’t know what to say to that, so he sighs, “I wish I could say I understand such a thing…”

It is then that the dragon lord tears his gaze away to look at the half-elf. He softly states, “…you never knew your mother…”

“I only know who my father is. No one would ever tell me my mother’s name. She abandoned me when I was born, they say,” confesses Sephiroth with a forced nonchalant shrug. He feels tactless for feeling strung out over a deadbeat mother he’s never met when here Vincent is mourning a mother he’d probably known all his life. A mother that chose to die for him. “Sometimes I have dreams about her. I think in them, I see her face and hear her voice…but I always forget everything about her when I wake. The only thing I ever remember is how her touch felt and her presence…”

“I hope that whatever her reasons were, they were good ones,” comments Vincent as he regards the half-elf with sympathetic eyes. “But if she abandoned you for selfish reasons…then you are better off without her.”

“I suppose so. I never had to starve or beg for things I needed…so I cannot really complain,” murmurs Sephiroth, avoiding the other man’s concerned gaze. “Still…it might have been nice to at least know her name, who she was…if she even still lives…”

“There must have been a good reason why no one told you about her. They could have been protecting you…”

Sephiroth narrows his eyes, suddenly not feeling so forgiving towards his mother, father, or anyone else involved. “Or protecting _her_ …”

“Your father is King Gast, isn’t he,” states Vincent after a long pause of silence.

The silver-haired man whips his face towards Vincent in surprise and then inwardly curses himself for giving that away, again. Last time it had happened with Yuffie. Which reminds him…

“Yuffie told you?”

Vincent shakes his head and looks back at his eternally sleeping mother. “No, I guessed.”

“Is it really that obvious? Does everyone know?”

“No, only me, and apparently Yuffie. I only guessed because… I have seen Aerith before. You both bear enough similar physical traits to draw suspicion in me. I figured she must be a half-sister, or a cousin…”

“You have seen her? _When_?”

The raven-haired male coughs, “Not in person, I assure you. When those soldiers of yours departed, I had one of our falcons follow them to ensure they arrived back in Midgar safely. Through the falcon’s eyes, I caught a glimpse of Aerith. That is how I even know what she looks like. I didn’t know who she was until Zack bowed to her, but I do remember my first impression of her was that she reminded me of you, somehow. The green eyes, I think…and that widows-peak. Both are rare traits to find in people, you know. Even among elf kind…”

“You have a sharp mind behind equally sharp eyes, I see,” says Sephiroth, cracking a small smile. He then adds, “I think…you and your brother both resemble your mother very much so. I do not know what that Hojo person looked like, but it is easy to see you take after your mother…”

“Fortunately we don’t bear much resemblance to our late, mad father,” agrees Vincent with a long, quiet sigh. “…so I take it Chaos told you _everything_ then…?”

“Depends on what you consider everything to be,” retorts the jade-eyed male with a snort. Since he’s now reminded of just why he sought the older man out in the first place, his shoulders sag as he averts his gaze like a punished child. “For whatever it is worth, I am truly sorry I upset you. That was not my intention, I swear to you. I did not know…about all that and now I understand why you were angry. Just know you have nothing to be jealous of since I have no personal interest in that contemptable prisoner. While it is obvious he wants something from me, I want nothing from him.”

“No…I overreacted. True, that brought back old memories…but I should not have reacted that way. You are not Lucrecia and I see that now. I hope that is what I will always see in all our time together. I do not believe I ever saw who she truly was back then, or maybe I did, but I just ignored it because I was foolishly in love with someone who didn’t love me the same way. The poets tend to claim that love makes us blind, after all. I suppose that is true enough…”

Sephiroth smirks. “Are you blind now?”

The dragon lord glances out of the corner of his eye, a hint of a smile on his lips. “What do you think…?”

“I do not think I should say such a thing in front of your _mother_ ,” answers Sephiroth with his trademark smirk.

“She would have liked you, I think,” expresses Vincent as he focuses his attention back on his crystal shrouded mother. “Now that I think about it, I do not think she was ever fond of Lucrecia, either. Chaos takes after my mother in personality, you see, so that in itself is not especially surprising to me. I never did seek their approval. I should have. Maybe then…”

“Maybe then the sky will puke rainbows of candy into our mouths and the volcanos will spit out mounds of chocolate for all to frolic in? I do not know what would have been, what could have been had any of us done things differently. All I know is… _this_ is the moment we are in, and that, too, will come to pass. I say we worry about the problems we have today and prepare for the ones that will come tomorrow.”

“Does that mean…you wish to stay?” Hesitantly asks the crimson-eyed man after he breaks his gaze away from the tragic image of his deceased mother.

“You think I want to leave? What gave you _that_ impression?”

Vincent sighs, “You feel trapped here, like a bird in a cage having to sing us songs from its perch…”

“I chose to come here, to be with you both. I was not enslaved or captured. It is my choice to stay and I will stay…unless you want me to go,” affirms Sephiroth in an unwavering, certain voice. His green-eyed gaze holds strong and confident as he watches Vincent closely. He raises a silver eyebrow as he shrewdly inquires, “…do you wish for me to go?”

“No…I wish for you to stay with me…and my brother…for as long as your sanity can bear us,” answers Vincent, his blood-red gaze fixed on Sephiroth without blinking. 

“If you think my sanity, or lack of it, will determine whether I stay or go, you have another thing coming.”

“Your unwavering loyalty is a thing of beauty. I think I already told you once before that I admire you for it,” quietly comments the dragon lord before he looks back at his deceased mother. He reaches out and lays his hand against the smooth, cool surface of the crystal. His gaze is melancholic while he stares at her serene face. “Your fidelity rivals that of my mother. Had her’s been any less, she might still be alive today…”

“You may feel guilty over her death, but I doubt she regrets giving her life to save your life, Vincent. That is what mothers do, or so I am told. You did not kill her; your wretched father did. I hope you can stop blaming yourself one day.”

“I hope so, too,” agrees Vincent, turning his back to his mother to gaze down at the other crystals of people he had never known in his lifetime. They are faces he knows very well by now since he has spent an inordinate amount of his time in the tomb after his mother’s death. Others feel that this place is depressing or frightening, or both, but not Vincent. He finds it calming to his soul, like being alone without actually being alone. “We all have our customs, our traditions when it comes to life and death. The Red Dragons burn their dead, the White Dragons freeze them in ice, preserving them forever. The Black Dragons choose to shroud their dead in crystal, preserving the body and providing a place for spirits to return should they so choose. Sometimes they do and sometimes they do not. We all have a choice whether or not to be here or not. Most do choose it, but those that do not…usually choose fire, or sometimes, a watery grave. Occasionally there is not much of anything to recover due to excessive damage…which is why some of these crystals have silhouettes. Their essence, a piece of their spirit, is tied to this place even without a body. Like most people, death is something that is difficult for us to bear, to accept, so…we do what it takes to make it easier, to remember, since we technically do endure eternal life. It is easier to stomach…if you can see the face of the one you love. Or at least, that is what some people claim. I think seeing them only disillusions us…makes it much harder to let go, to accept that they are truly gone from us.”

“That is…very sad, but beautiful,” comments Sephiroth as he follows his mate’s gaze, sweeping over the many crystals incasing the many frozen forms of seemingly sleeping people. People neither of them would ever come to know, bearing faces that would be all they ever knew of them.

“Yes, it is. I think we should go now,” says the dark-haired warrior, his arm tightening around Sephiroth’s narrow waist. He turns his face to look at the half-elf and is surprised when he sees the younger male’s face looming close to his, as if waiting for something.

“Well?” Prompts Sephiroth as if the other should know what to do. He has to hold back a bark of laughter at the blank, clueless expression on the taller male’s face.

“Well what?”

The green-eyed ex-Knight snickers, “Ever heard of the ‘kiss and make up’ thing? Zack said he always does it _after_ he and his girl have a fight.”

“Oh… _that_. I see…”

“Fine, let us just go then,” scoffs Sephiroth, turning his head away as he crosses his arms. He mutters under his breath, “It was a stupid idea. Besides…Zack never holds onto any woman long enough for it to—“

A nimble, strong hand forces Sephiroth to turn and look at Vincent before lips cover his own, instantly silencing him on the spot. Although the kiss is brief and chaste, it is deep enough for the slighter male to press closer to cling to the dragon. The half-elf is barely aware of the sudden lurch of movement or of the billowing silver and black hairs mingling together as the pair dives feet first towards the ground. The only thing that stops Sephiroth from landing wrong or stumbling like a drunkard are his instincts despite his momentary distraction. He stares dumbfounded at the darker-skinned male as he’s led out of the tomb of past dragon lords.

“For the record…it was not a stupid idea,” says the crimson-eyed man as they exit the passage that leads to the tomb. He keeps an arm wrapped loosely around the younger male’s waist, his hand planted against a hip in what seems like an intimate gesture. Slowly, he mirrors Vincent’s gesture and frowns slightly when he notices the way his tan flesh flinches at the first initial touch of his hand and arm. It takes a moment for the older man to relax under the simple, light touch. It is disconcerting to know that someone that was once loved and trusted had reduced this beautiful immortal man to a cynical, tormented shell of his former self. A shell Sephiroth hopes that someday he can help fill and mold into a man that Vincent will find no shame in being.

“I think it is wise if we attempt to salvage a few hours of sleep before sunrise,” quietly suggests Vincent as he leads them back towards their bedroom chambers.

“Excellent idea,” replies Sephiroth with a slow nod, realizing just how weary to the bone he feels now. There are still questions nagging him in the back of his mind, but for now, he is mostly satisfied. There are no vexing voices in his head and the dispute between them is resolved, or at least, he believes it to be. Despite the creep locked up in the dungeons, everything seems fine now for the most part. Tomorrow may not be so bad, after all.

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“ **HEY! WAKE UP, YOU GUYS!** ” Shrieks Yuffie as she barges unannounced into the dragon lords’ personal chambers. The female dragon has the decency to zip around, turning her back on them when Chaos shoots up from under the furs in all his naked glory.

“ ** _Bloody hell, Yuffie! What in all the gods damned Gaia is your problem?”_** Growls Chaos as he hastily yanks on his usual leather loin cloth of choice. His livid amber eyes seem to glow as he glowers at his cousin like she had just killed his best friend.

Even though Vincent is clearly annoyed at having their sleep disrupted, he calmly reaches for their garments. He hands Sephiroth’s over to him before he quickly tucks and clasps everything into place in a more graceful, less rushed version of his brother’s way of dressing. Rising up from his sitting position, he silently stands expectantly waiting for his cousin to speak her piece.

Sephiroth shoots Yuffie a couple of baleful glares before he, too, dresses himself so that he’s decent. Lack of sleep and the desire to curl back between the brothers makes for a very grumpy, broody ex-Knight. In some part of his head, his rationality tells him that the girl wouldn’t barge in here unannounced for no good reason. Sighing, he rubs at his tired eyes as he forces himself to stand up.

“Hey! I’m just tell—“ starts the female dragon before she’s interrupted by a silky, yet stern baritone stemming full of an unusual amount of urgency that is unlike the Spymaster.

“Forgive me, my Lords, but I have dire news of a reported recent attack on several villages in Midgar close to the capitol,” interrupts Tseng from just outside the door. Out of respect, he stands out of sight without daring to peer inside, unlike Yuffie.

Vincent looks at Chaos and Sephiroth, nods, and then strides out of the chambers closely followed by his brother, mate, and cousin. Once they’re outside the chambers, he turns to the dark-eyed male and questions, “When did these attacks occur, and by whom? Are there causalities?”

Tseng immediately begins walking, leading them through the passageway as he answers, “A messenger arrived a little over thirty minutes ago with a message from King Gast stating that sometime during the night, several of his people’s villages were decimated by dragon breath, more specifically, a _Cone of Cold_ breath weapon. Because it was a surprise attack at night, there were barely any survivors at all. The people that did survive were not able to get a good glimpse of the attackers, but they did verify that the attack came from the sky and they could hear the sounds of flapping wings and roars. Not to mention the physical evidence of an ice attack, of course. Two of the three attacks happened at night. Only one occurred during the day, late afternoon, actually, and the only survivor of that particular village described the attackers to be large white, winged beasts spitting ice like fire. It is unknown how many are dead, but it is estimated to be a few hundred, at least. These were large villages located close to the capitol, where there King lives. We have Shinra’s son locked up here; I would not be surprised if these attacks are in response to that.”

Yuffie scratches her head as she asks, “But why attack the people of Midgar?”

“Perhaps they wish to draw our attention there specifically,” supplies Vincent quietly, his voice low and grave. 

“Yeah…one of those bastards got away, remember. The snake obviously slithered back to old Shinra and told him we have his pathetic piece of shit son,” grits out Chaos, his golden eyes still glowing.

“So…it is a trap, then,” points out Sephiroth, knowing he is probably voicing what everyone is now thinking in their heads. “They want us distracted by Midgar…so they can attack Kalm and get back their little prince.”

Vincent stops walking and sighs, “It would appear that way, yes…”

“So what is the plan, brother?” Asks Chaos, staring intently at his slighter twin.

“We are obligated to come to Midgar’s aid, so we will do so. You will go to Midgar with Angeal, Sephiroth, and Gigas and other troops of your choosing, but make it quick. Galian, Seifer, Squall, and I will stay here in case of an attack and our soldiers will be ready for it,” instructs the crimson-eyed lord.

Sephiroth narrows his jade eyes as he walks around to directly face the shorter dragon lord. “Nice try, but I am staying _here_ , Vincent.”

“You know Midgar better than my brother does,” says Vincent, his own narrowed blood red eyes glaring back at the stubborn half-elf. “So that means you will be going with them…”

“That’s not the reason and we both know it. You want me gone because you believe _nothing_ will happen in Midgar. For that very reason, I am staying here, with you, whether you like it or not,” asserts the determined silver-haired soldier.

Before Vincent can respond, Chaos squeezes between them and raises up his hands as if in surrender. “All right, _all right_ …settle down you two. If precious wants to stay here with you, then he stays. Little brother, you do know that he is far more than just a pair of long legs and a sexy, divine ass sent from heaven…”

“I would not have worded it quite that way…but thank you, Chaos,” sighs Sephiroth, flashing him a grateful smile nonetheless.

“Fine. You can stay here, Sephiroth, but hear me know…you will not leave my sight and you will do _everything_ I say.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter may include what ya’ll have been highly anticipating for a while now.


	9. Declaration

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some Violence and minor deaths. Don’t like don’t read.

After being bent over backwards for a long, deep farewell kiss, Sephiroth watches with solemn eyes as the hulking forms of Chaos and his men fly high in the sky many meters ahead. The moment feels nauseatingly bittersweet to him because now he knows, he _knows_ how all those wives and children felt seeing off their husbands and fathers for every single battle. Logically, he knows nothing will probably happen to Chaos this time, but the irrational part of his mind, the part that feels love, worries endlessly about that man’s well-being nevertheless.  He cannot help feeling increasingly restless with each minute that passes during Chaos’ absence. Glancing at Vincent and Yuffie, he knows he is not alone in that regard. They love Chaos, their clan, and their people…a feeling Sephiroth is still becoming accustomed to in his short time with them. He’s been with them, what, ten, eleven days? Somehow, it seems longer to him as if he’s lived here for years already, like this is a place he knows deep inside of his bones. Maybe that is what a home feels like…?

He allows the red-eyed twin to take his hand and lead him back into the caves. Despite how absorbed he is in his own thoughts, Sephiroth is still aware of the calloused hand that holds his own. It’s obvious the physical sentiment is meant for comfort, not for control or guidance. He squeezes that hand, briefly locking onto crimson eyes that seem to mirror his own thoughts and feelings.

It’s not long before they’re all settled at a large round table in a war room meant for meetings such as these. Maps and other parchments cover the table in an organized mess that looks like it was recently made. Even with the door shut, he can hear the sounds of footsteps passing by periodically. On the way to the war room, he had already noticed soldiers in pairs, all on high alert, patrolling the passageways. This means many men and women would be enduring long, boring shifts away from their families for an indefinite amount of time. This causes him to remember his previous thoughts on how hard it must be for families to constantly worry over the well-being of their devoted fathers and husbands. Two weeks ago, he would not have known or understood such a feeling. He had never understood how Zack’s mother and whatever woman his second was ‘courting’ at the time, had felt whenever they embarked on a mission or marched to battle. Well, now he knows how it feels and despite grim, significant conversation going on around him, he finds it increasingly hard to pay attention. 

How did all of those women and children cope with _this_ every single time? How did they not go mad with worry? They kept themselves busy, he knows. Most cannot afford to lounge around worrying about their husbands or their fathers like pampered nobles. Not that he is sitting or lying around, that is. Well, he is sitting, but not for leisure, that’s for sure. The half-elf is here for a purpose and he knows he’d do well to shake his mind of such irrational thoughts so that he can focus on the matters on hand. As a former Knight Commander, he had sat in on his share of long, tedious war room meetings. However, this is the first time he’s done so while fretting about someone he cares deeply about.

The half-elf longs to mount Mako and chase after Chaos just to ensure his safety, to know that he is well. Sephiroth made his choice and there is no backing out now, he knows. The reason he is staying behind is because there are people _here_ in Kalm that need to be protected from the threat posed by the White Dragon clan. The probability that Midgar’s people will suffer another dragon attack is less likely to occur given _who_ they have chained up in the dungeons. Rufus Shinra. As heir, the _only_ heir to old Shinra, it is obvious the white dragon lord will do whatever it takes to spirit back his son, safe and sound. Which means that if there is to be another attack, it will happen here in Kalm, in the caves, and will most likely be a stealth attack. Because Rufus is top priority, Sephiroth believes, along with some others, that there will be another attack and this time it will be on the people here. There will be another distraction, more casualties. That is why they are gathered here now, discussing the problem at hand and any solutions that will benefit them the most in the end. Despite this, he still feels torn in two. He wants to be here to help protect the black dragon clan, but he also wants to be out there with Chaos, too. If he could split himself into two separate beings to be in two different places, he would.

Right before the farewell kiss, Chaos had half-jokingly asked Sephiroth for a quick ‘ _farewell fuck’_ , as he had referred to it as. Whatever its original intended purpose had been, it had been enough to temporarily crack a smile on the ex-Knight’s despondent, pale face. Sephiroth had responded to such a friendly jibe by promising him something better along the lines of a ‘ _long, welcome home fuck’_ , to which Chaos had reacted by bending him backwards into a searing, breathless kiss.

“What are ya smiling about?” Curiously asks Yuffie as she peers up at the silver-haired man from her place sitting beside him. On the other side of Sephiroth, sits Vincent with Tseng on his other side.

“Kind of wished I had taken Chaos up on his _offer_ ,” answers Sephiroth with a half-smirk. He hears Vincent snort and glances at him in time to see the dragon’s barely there smile before his face is completely turned away from view.

Tseng clears his throat loudly while Cid guffaws from his place between Yuffie and an unfamiliar, handsome dark-haired man Sephiroth has never seen before. Like Tseng, this man is of average height and build and by the looks of him, he is no warrior but it is obvious by his dark hair, skin, scales, and eyes that he is an indeed a member of this clan. Like some others, this man lacks horns but still bears the metallic eyes and the scales that speckle the back of his arms and legs. Sephiroth will have to also remember to ask Vincent about the horn thing later since some dragons have them and some don’t. He wonders if this is done on purpose or if this is actually something certain people are born with or without.

“What was his offer?” Asks the unfamiliar man with piqued interest. His metallic black, kind eyes crinkle with mirth when he hears the Spymaster sigh in exasperation.

Tseng snaps, “It does not matter, Reeve.”

“It doesn’t?” Innocently inquires the unfamiliar man known as Reeve.

“You heard me the first time. I will not repeat myself,” growls the irritated Spymaster.

Reeve smiles and doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about how much he’s pissing off the man sitting to his right. He leans back in his seat with his arms resting behind his head.

Tseng glares at the amused man sitting to his left with such heat and animosity that Sephiroth begins to wonder if the two are involved somehow. It wouldn’t surprise him since there is something strangely playful _and_ domestic on their parts. Not that Tseng is being particularly playful, that is…unless he’s one of those devious men that gets off on anger and pain.

“Oh gods, you two get a room already! There is too much sexual tension in the room!” Complains Yuffie while she crosses her arms unhappily.

Seifer snickers from his place several feet away from Sephiroth, leaning against the wall behind him. Right beside him is the stormy-eyed Squall, silent as ever and sporting his usual indecipherable face. Unlike his blond compatriot, though, he stands straight and rigid with his arms at his sides.

The room is silent for a minute and most eyes are riveted on Tseng and Reeve expectantly. When Reeve realizes this, he points at himself and says, “Oh, you mean _me_ and _Tseng_? Sorry, I thought you were talking about our Lord and Grace over there…”

Sephiroth is confused by Reeve’s playful crack since he’s never met this man before today. Of course, that doesn’t mean Yuffie and others have neglected to gossip about some things to him, which means this Reeve knows more about Sephiroth than he does about Reeve. He decides he will have to rectify that since such a thing unsettles him. Raising a silver eyebrow, he gestures to Reeve and just barely politely asks, “Excuse me, _who_ are you?”

Smiling sheepishly, Reeve quickly bows his head in reverence as he introduces himself. “Oh, how rude of me! I am Reeve, as you probably already figured out. I am not quite certain what my official title would be, but we could just say I help run things here, like a city planner of sorts. I do a little of everything, it seems. Because I excel at architecture and blacksmithing, I tend to work with Cid mostly. The only time I tend to see Tseng is when he comes to bitch at me about a crack on his wall or something. I think he just finds whatever excuse he can just to marvel at my sheer magnificence…”

Cid and Yuffie both laugh, huddling together to murmur quietly so that it’s indistinct. Sephiroth pretends like he can’t make out any of the words they’re saying.

“Do not flatter yourself, Reeve. I would sooner sully myself with a human, _or_ a dwarf, rather than one of your particular ilk,” retorts Tseng with a sniff, turning his head away indignantly.

Reeve doesn’t seem the least bit discouraged by that, which causes him to wink at Tseng. “Yet you do not…”

“How romantic,” dryly comments Sephiroth as he rests his hand on top of Vincent’s thigh in a silent, simple gesture of support and comfort. The dragon lord tenses at the touch, but quickly relaxes once he realizes just who is touching him. His hand soon overlaps Sephiroth’s hand, both accepting and returning the support in kind.

“Indeed it is,” drawls Vincent in agreement before he sighs. He waves his other hand in the next moment to catch their divided attentions. “Enough of that, now. Let us not forget why we are gathered here today as of right now…”

“I say we kill the stupid fucker. The whiney runt is more trouble than he’s worth,” suggests the blond human. Seifer hums in agreement with Cid from his place leaning against the wall.

Tseng shakes his head in disagreement. “We may need Rufus for some kind of leverage. Killing him now would be foolish. Who knows why type of reaction such an action would create?”

“You really think keeping that piece of shit locked up as a tortured prisoner is any better? If I were his old man, I’d be fucking pissed and want to get my brat back,” points out Cid.

“Maybe we could ransom the kid or use him in the negotiations?” proposes Reeve with a shrug.

Vincent’s voice is cold and hard as he speaks, “There will be no negotiating with the White Dragon clan, Reeve. No ransom, no bargains. That boy is our prisoner and deserves to rot in the dungeons until we decide otherwise. Rufus Shinra trespassed on Black Dragon territory with his men and weapons with ill intentions. I do not understand how or why, but he attacked my mate relentlessly by other, non-physical means. Despite interrogations, the whelp refuses to answer any questions unless it pertains to Sephiroth. And now…his people have attacked and murdered our allies. We cannot allow these transgressions to go unchecked and unpunished.”

“Which is why I believe it is time we involve your mother’s original clan. My Lord, they are also our allies and as such, they may be subject to an attack as well,” sighs Tseng since, like everyone else, he is reluctant to mention their clan’s late Grace.

Head inclined, Sephiroth asks, “ _Original_ clan?”

“She originally hailed from the Red Dragon clan. She was a ‘Sacrifice’ like you are, Sephiroth. In this clan, it is common practice to partake in such a tradition to gain allies and prevent possible inbreeding. It is called a Sacrifice because the intended Grace has to leave everything behind to become the mate of the clan leader,” patiently explains Vincent despite the stress residing just below the surface of his demeanor. He draws lazy circles with his thumb on the skin of the half-elf’s motionless hand. The dragon lord flicks his eyes towards their personal guards a few times until Sephiroth follows his gaze. He then leans over and whispers, “ _Those two are orphans from the Red Dragon clan. Well, they both believe themselves to be orphans. Squall has a father he isn’t aware of and for whatever reasons, the father wishes to_ _remain unknown for the time being. Seifer willingly chose to be here because there are more opportunities here and our clan is stronger. Squall, on the other hand, was sent here by his father. Recently, the Red Dragons suffered a loss of leadership and even though they have a new clan leader, **Laguna** , Squall’s father, actually…he is still smoothing things out within the clan. Not everyone is happy with this choice of a leader; however, I know him to some extent and he is a good, reasonable man. If anyone should rebel, Chaos and I are ready to back him_.”

Sephiroth says nothing; he merely nods his understanding as he waits for the crimson-eyed male to speak again. In the back of his mind, he cannot help wondering if this Laguna is related to the dragon lord twins. It is highly probable that they could be related to him to some extent or even not at all. It is a stretch and in the end it might not even matter. Why Laguna chose to keep Squall a secret, he doesn’t know, nevertheless what he does know is Vincent has entrusted this information to him. For now, he will say nothing, but he will keep a closer eye on that adolescent dragon, without being too obvious, of course.

“I do not like the idea of adding an extra burden to our brother clan, but you may be right, Tseng. If Shinra is targeting our allies, then he will target the Red clan at some point…or maybe not at all. Still, it is better to be prepared than not. I will send Lord Laguna our fastest falcon after this meeting is adjourned,” decides a reluctant Vincent, his face slightly sour from the idea of involving his mother’s previous clan.

Reeve coughs, clearing his throat before proposing, “If you would hear me out, my Lord, and my Grace,” he pauses to wink at Sephiroth before continuing, “I would like to propose that you send out my little _invention_ , instead. Our enemies may be expecting us to send out falcons, so it is likely they will attempt to intercept our falcons. They do not know about my invention and will not be expecting him.”

Vincent cocks his head slightly to the side, staring at Reeve with those intense, smoldering eyes of his that usually makes most people uncomfortable. He holds out a hand to Tseng, silencing him before he can say a word. The dragon lord drawls, “Invention…?”

“His name is Cait Sith, my Lord. Think of him as…a _puppet_ with his own personality. I can see through his eyes and hear what he hears directly. I can also transfer what he sees and hears through a mirror, or resting water, but the sound is still distorted. I’m still working out the kinks when it comes to what he hears, but his vision transferred into objects like mirrors and other reflective surfaces is pretty much perfect,” explains the city planner with a wide smile that betrays how proud and excited he is about his invention.

“Before we attempt this, or should I say, even consider it, I would like a _demonstration_ ,” says Vincent after a long pause of silence.

“Let me guess…this Cait Sith of yours is a fluffy, adorable little animal,” half jokes Sephiroth with a smirk as he imagines that silly man cuddling with a child’s stuffed toy. In the background, Cid, Yuffie, and Seifer all snicker while Tseng sighs wearily. Only Vincent and Squall remain unaffected as they watch and listen on in silence.

“How did you know? Can you read minds?” Asks Reeve, genuinely looking surprised by the silver-haired man’s deduction.

The smirk drops off the half-elf’s face in an instant. He deadpans, “You are kidding…”

“Not at all. As my Lord requested, I will fetch Cait Sith and return before you know it,” says Reeve as he rises up from his seat and walks across the room towards the door. He looks over his shoulder and waits for Tseng to meets his eyes before he winks flirtatiously at him.

“Your lover is a bit on the _daft_ side,” states Sephiroth as he looks at Tseng with an accusing, yet amused stare.

Tseng quickly denies, “He is not my lover!”

Seifer snickers, “ _Sure,_ he’s not.”

Vincent slowly turns his head to look at the Spymaster, narrowing his eyes in silent warning.

“He is not my lover, your Grace,” corrects Tseng once he notices his Lord’s withering stare _and_ his own mistake.

“Mhm,” hums Sephiroth with a grin.

Seifer jokes, “Don’t worry, boss, we’ll know if it happens when Tseng stops being so uptight. Hopefully Reeve will loosen him up good soon…”

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“What the hell is _that_?” Asks Sephiroth as he leans forward in his chair to get a better look at the ridiculous black and white cat looking thing sitting on the table. Out of the corners of his eyes, he notices everything else is pretty much doing the same except for brooding, silent mate.

Not the least bit deterred by the half-elf’s rudeness, Reeve elatedly answers, “This is Cait Sith. Well, technically he’s _Cait Sith III_ since the other two didn’t quite make it…”

“Does he do anything besides bounce and giggle?” Snorts the unimpressed ex-Knight, leaning back in his chair. Unfortunately for the half-elf, the smiling cat thing appears to be intensely fixated on him despite the fact that its eyes are shut tightly. He hopes it doesn’t attempt to hug or touch him in any way.

“I control what he does. He does whatever I tell him to do,” answers the city planner, not the least bit offended by anyone in the room. In fact, he actually appears quite amused by their reactions.

Seifer pushes off from the wall to stride over to the table to get a better look. Scratching the back of his head, he asks, “What’s with the cape… _and_ the crown? Is he supposed to be a princess or something? Chicken Wuss would probably like this thing…”

Squall coughs behind his hand, hiding a small smile.

Reeve frowns thoughtfully for a moment as he strokes his chin with his fingers. “I thought it was cute. He seems to like it…”

The cat puppet known as Cait Sith, sits on the edge of the table facing Sephiroth. Smiling as if he knows a funny secret, he slowly kicks his little legs back and forth as his tail flicks around from time to time.

“I do believe he likes you,” laughs Reeve.

“Since you control him, doesn’t that mean _you_ like me, not him?” Deadpans Sephiroth.

“He has his own personality, your Grace. While I can and do control him a good portion of the time, Cait Sith has some control over himself. He is imbued by actual magic and can wield it successfully. If you must know, his eyes were crafted from Materia,” explains Reeve while he tries not to laugh at the expression on the half-elf’s face when the cat leans forward, causing Sephiroth to lean back away from him.

“Why ya lookin’ at me like that for, laddie? Never seen a handsome puppet like me before?” Loudly inquires Cait Sith in an unusual accent that is normally found among the dwarves and in some human settlements to the far east.

Sephiroth stares back at that thing and even though its eyes appear closed to him, he feels as if it’s staring right back at him. “Not really, no…”

“Today’s your lucky day, big guy! I’m Cait Sith…fortune teller and sorcerer! You are…wait, don’t tell me, I know it! You are…”

“Sephiroth.” Finishes the ex-Knight Commander, crossing his arms as he wonders if Reeve will be upset if he smacks this cat thing against the wall. A slow, wide smile spreads on his face, giving him a nearly sinister appearance.

“Hey you! What’s with the weird smile?! I don’t like it, it’s creepin’ me out,” exclaims Cait Sith, bouncing back away from the smirking half-elf.

“I think his smile is charming,” disagrees Vincent.

Yuffie gripes, “You look constipated, Vince…”

“What are you talking about? This is how I always look…” sighs the raven-haired lord.

The female dragon slouches over, resting her chin on her arms that are currently folded on the table. She huffs, “Yeah, it’s _depressing_ …” Then stares pointedly at Sephiroth as if expecting him to do something about it.

Tseng clears his throat. “I don’t mean to be rude, my lord, but do we not have matters to attend to?”

Vincent nods in agreement, looking a tad bit annoyed at himself for allowing himself _and_ others to become distracted. “Yes, that is correct. Reeve, you swear that your… _puppet_ can achieve the task of messenger?”

“He can fly, my Lord, and he has proven faster than any of our falcons,” verified the confident city planner, nodding curtly.

“Very well. We are counting on your…Cait Sith,” Says the dragon lord while he reaches for supplies and is slightly surprised to find that Tseng had already pushed parchment, ink, and quill towards him. He begins scrawling something quick, but legible in handwriting that the half-elf envies to some degree. He can read and write himself, but his own, barely legible scrawl is nowhere near as pretty or as neat as Vincent’s own.

“Can I help you?” Asks Sephiroth after enduring several minutes of that cat thing staring at him.

“You’re pretty for a lad,” points out the puppet as if this is something no one else in the room knows. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone with _silver_ hair. That’s kind of strange, doncha think?”

Sephiroth scoffs, “We cannot all be hideous like you.”

“He’s an elf, of course he’s gorgeous! They’re all _pretty_ ,” sighs Yuffie as if this is a great tragedy.

“Hey you, that’s mean! I’ll have you know I’m very handsome, dashing, and all the ladies love me!” Objects Cait Sith with an affronted sniff. His attention snaps to Yuffie to curiously ask, “An elf? Really!? I’ve never seen one of those before! Maybe that’s why he looks so weird…”

“Don’t be rude,” scolds Reeve, smacking the cat lightly on his rump.

Before anyone else can make a sound or even move a muscle, Vincent’s voice cuts through the air like a knife. “It is done. Cait Sith, you are to deliver this message as quickly as possible, without raising suspicion, to the Red Dragon clan. Can you do this?”

“I sure can, boss man! Leave it to me, I’ll be back before you know it!” Exclaims the cat puppet with his own sloppy version of a salute. He marches over on his hind legs and takes the folded and sealed parchment offered to him. The puppet blows a kiss to Sephiroth before snapping his fingers and disappearing in a puff of swirling red smoke.

“Looks like ya have a fan,” chuckles Cid and in the next moment, his mood sobers completely. The blond human looks to the crimson-eyed lord and sighs heavily, “Now that that’s done, what do you want us to do, old man?”

“I have assigned more shifts, and for some that can handle it, double shifts. Until the threat has passed, rest will not be plentiful for anyone, I fear. Cid, I know you are busy tinkering with your…whatever it is that you do, but I expect you to be armed and on the lookout for anything suspicious. Keep an eye on the people and help keep them safe in the city. That goes for you, too, Yuffie,” instructs Vincent and once he’s assured that they both understand, he turns to Tseng and Reeve. “As for you two, I expect you to gather the people together as soon as possible and inform them of the situation. They are expected to be vigilant as well, but I do not expect them to stop their daily routines. As soon as that is finished, I expect you to remain in the city to deal with whatever issues arise. Tseng, you are to keep an eye on the men and ensure that the soldiers are properly pulling their weight and relieving shift changes on time. As for Sephiroth and I, we will be sentinels, as well, along with our personal guards Seifer and Squall. **Galian** , along with some others, is posted outside as a sentry. That is all for now until further notice.”

“My Lord, you really needn’t—“ Starts Tseng, but is cut off by the sharp gesture of the dragon lord’s hand.

Vincent rises up slowly from his chair, slowly and solemnly gazing at each and every single face until it comes to rest on his mate’s visage. “Do not underestimate the White Dragon clan. They may not be the most intelligent of all dragons, but they are not to be disregarded. Striking our allies is an act of war and as such, we are in war time until further notice. Because of this, we _all_ must all pull our weight, including Chaos, Sephiroth, and I…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Several hours later, night falls upon Kalm with no disturbances or incidents of any kind save for a woman going unexpectedly into labor. Most people have received the news without causing an uproar, though many are on edge. Some people, mostly the relatively young ones, are excited about the prospect of finally taking part in a real war. The older ones know better and aren’t too enthusiastic about possible losses to their people, the people they trade with, and allies.

Sephiroth is calm and collected as he stands outside the dungeon against the wall with Vincent right beside him despite the murmurings of a female voice in his head he does his best to ignore. He keeps this particular bit of information to himself because he knows that if he says anything, the older male will drag him away somewhere else. The ex-Knight is actually surprised Vincent is even allowing him to be this close.

“Have any of you put any thought to just killing that guy?” Voices Seifer, jerking his head towards the dungeons doors to indicate just who he is speaking of, after a lengthy term of silence has passed them. He breaks the silence mostly so he doesn’t fall asleep standing on his feet.

It’s unnerving to know that they’re guarding a prisoner who refuses to talk, who will not break no matter how severe the pain. The half-elf can certainly understand why the golden-haired dragon finds it difficult to wrap his head around keeping such a dangerous burden alive. A burden that has done nothing but cause problems for them since his capture and has even become a liability for them.  Maybe that is why Rufus Shinra still lives? He is their responsibility and until they can figure something out, they are accountable for him. Still…the darker part of himself cannot help feeling the violent impulse to run that freak through with Masamune…

The raven-haired lord glances at the jade-eyed man before he admits, “I often fantasize about it. Chaos is foaming at the mouth to rip Shinra apart…”

“But something is stopping you from doing it. You know it would be most unwise, and may result in a disastrous outcome for your people,” Quietly utters Squall, finishing Vincent’s explanation for him.

“Something like that, yes,” agrees the raven-haired man.

Seifer scratches the back of his neck as he yawns. “I guess that makes sense, puberty boy.”

“Whatever,” says the brunette right before he resumes ignoring everyone once again.

“You are a very perceptive, intelligent person, Squall. Have you ever put any thought into going into politics or even becoming a spy? I believe either would suit you, though I am leaning more towards spy. What do you think?” Inquires Sephiroth in an effort to engage the aloof boy. Something about this kid is oddly detached, as if he does it on purpose. He hasn’t known Squall for very long, but he has noticed the way he pushes people away. Oddly enough, the only person he doesn’t seem to mind so much is the one who teases him. Seifer. The boy is obviously naturally a quiet, introverted person, but it makes Sephiroth question whether or not that is normal for him, or someone like him. Since Squall believes himself to be an orphan, it is entirely possible he fears more possible rejection and personal loss. Perhaps he lost his family, saw them die even, and fears losing someone else he cares about. Or maybe, like Vincent, it could be someone once hurt him deeply, making him withdraw from the world and rot on the inside for too long a time…

The stormy-eyed teenager seems genuinely surprised by the half-elf’s words. In the end, he merely shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. I am a body guard now…”

Sephiroth frowns at that and suddenly, he’s struck by how much he seems to have in common with Squall. There’s a pain in the boy and he wants to somehow get through to it, to ease it. Perhaps if he makes this personal, the brunette will finally open his eyes and see himself and the world around him for what it truly is. “I never knew my mother since… she abandoned me. I grew up an orphan, forced to fight to survive in that world. I used to be a body guard, too. It was not…really my choice. I could have been sold as a slave, or even killed, but I was spared both fates. I never chose to be a soldier, to guard a princess, but I did choose to kill. Not much of a choice when it is either kill or be killed, to be honest. I was never really offered any real choices until Chaos and Vincent asked me to become their bonded mate. I did not have to accept. I could have refused, but I did not want Aerith to leave her Kingdom, to be the Sacrifice. I have been told that makes me unselfish, yet I cannot help thinking it was also done for selfish reasons. You see, Chaos _intrigued_ me, and not just because of his looks or his presence. What drew me most to him was the choice he offered. He gave me a choice. For once in my life, I was given a choice. I made my choice, and I do not regret it. Chaos and Vincent…are good, just men with honor. With them, you will always be given a choice. You could have refused to be Vincent’s body guard, and he would have accepted that without punishing you for it or threatening your life.  Even know, should you wish to pursue another path, I doubt any of us will admonish you for it. Unless I am mistaken?”

“You breathe truth in every word,” confirms the crimson-eyed lord with a faint smile. His right hand twitches at his side as if it’s tempted to reach out and touch the half-elf.

A flicker of emotion flashes on Squall’s face, but before Sephiroth can zero in on it, the adolescent turns his face away from view. His normally impassive voice carries a husk of emotion as he comments, “You both…including Lord Chaos, chose well.”

“I agree with you, boss, and with Squally boy, too,” says Seifer, appearing less drowsy since now he has something interesting to focus on besides the sounds of breathing and occasional, echoing footsteps. As an afterthought, he furrows his eyebrows worriedly as he asks, “…we don’t have to group hug or anything, do we?”

In response to the blond’s query, Vincent sighs, Sephiroth rolls his eyes, and Squall blinks. Nothing else is said after that as the four of them stand in a comfortable, easy silence that somehow seems less strained than before.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_1 Hour and 45 Minutes Later…_

“Chief, you and boss should get some rest. Squall and I can handle the rest of the shift,” suggests Seifer, shifting his weight from his left foot to his right.

Vincent shakes his head slowly. “We will rest by daybreak, as planned…”

The half-elf yawns behind his hand, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as a result. The pressure in his bladder steadily increases until he cannot take it anymore. He stiffly announces, “I need to urinate. I will return shortly…unless anyone objects? I could very well piss here, but I’d rather not smell it…”

“Go, make it quick then,” exhales the raven-haired dragon.

Unfortunately, the closest bathroom he remembers is maybe a ten-minute walk so he strides quickly, nearly running in an attempt to cut that time in half. Once he reaches the bathroom, he relieves himself as quickly as possible without making a mess. The silver-haired warrior draws out a long sigh as the painful pressure ebbs away until his bladder is relatively empty. As he leaves the room, he hears a loud commotion in the distance, towards the way he had recently walked from. Alarm and dread pricks at his skin, spurring him to immediately lunge forwards, his long, strong legs taking him as quickly and as far as physically possible. Painful minutes pass until he’s finally close enough to see a flurry of wild movement and hear high, angry voices and wicked, harsh laughter. Squinting his eyes, he makes out the forms of several people, some he knows and some he’s never seen before. Immediately he slows down and summons Masamune, the sword appearing in his left hand. He grips it tightly in his hand, keeping it raised as he strides purposefully towards the group of squabbling people. His heart lurches in his chest once he spots Vincent on the ground, injured and bleeding profusely, yet still conscious. Despite the urge to assist him, he forces himself to slow his steps as he approaches. His eyes narrow once he pinpoints just who is in the middle of the fray and most likely responsible for the injury dealt to _his_ mate.

In the center stands Genesis, holding Yuffie with a bloodied dagger pressed tightly against her neck. It’s unclear whether or not all that blood belongs to her since the sharp edge of the blade is shallowly biting into her neck, causing a rivulet of blood to trickle down her neck. Even though the female dragon is deathly still, she is still spitting out loud obscenities in what sounds like draconic.

“Oh, my…look who has joined us. He came right to us, just like my Beloved said he would,” laughs Genesis as he motions a command with his free hand towards some of the white dragons flanking his sides. They slowly move away from the auburn-haired man and begin circling around, keeping their distance, yet keeping close enough to jump in if need be.

Movement catches Sephiroth’s eyes and he next notices that Squall and Seifer are each fighting two or three unknown assailants, most likely white dragons, several feet away. From the smell and look of it, both enraged teenagers are injured, but still determined to keep fighting. One look at the red-head shows that he’s not the least bit concerned about the young red dragons.

“Seph…i-iroth…g-get out of here,” stammers the dark-haired man, his crimson eyes wide with distress as soon as he has realized the half-elf is no longer safe. He doesn’t seem to be that concerned about his own pool of blood that he lies in, half propped up by one elbow.

Both stubbornness and loyalty roots the silver-haired man to this place with every intention of refusing Vincent’s plea. His blood begins to boil as he continues to glance between Yuffie and Vincent like a worried mother, gauging the seriousness of their injuries. The female dragon is sporting several noticeable injuries and while they don’t appear as grave as Vincent’s, it is obvious she requires some healing attention really soon. He clenches his jaw to reel in his temper before focusing his attention on the traitorous dragon before him. Without taking his narrowed eyes off of Genesis, he firmly says, “No, I will not leave you, Vincent. Nor will I leave Yuffie. I am not a coward…”

“Don’t be stupid, Sephie! Get out of here!” Demands Yuffie, who hisses in pain when the blade against her neck slices deeper. She immediately shuts up, but glares hatefully at the red-haired dragon with the promise of an agonizing death.

“Oh, but you will leave them, Sephiroth. You see…we came for my Beloved…and for you,” softly purrs Genesis, a dreamy expression plastered on his face as he gazes at the ex-Knight Commander. Something about him doesn’t seem all that there in the head and he’s definitely nothing like the previous version of Genesis that he had had the displeasure of briefly knowing. The expression etched into his face is that of a fanatical madman, driven by obsession and irrationality.

“Your _beloved_? What are you going on about, you fucking lunatic…?” Asks Sephiroth, his voice as hard as the steel he grips in his left hand. He clenches the hilt of Masamune even harder at the pained sounds that had been wrenched out of the dark-haired she-dragon. Though his attention is centered on Genesis, he doesn’t dare forget about the men circling slowly around them like scavengers awaiting a feast. The urge to strike down Genesis, to tear him apart limb by limb, resonates within him like the pounding of drums, but he refrains from doing so because of the hostage in his clutches. He has to somehow lure Genesis away from Yuffie and Vincent before he can act on his desire to kill the traitorous scum.

Genesis sighs pensively, “Rufus Shinra…otherwise known as Rufus, son of Shinra. He is my Beloved, well, _our_ Beloved. We have come to bring you **home**. You need not put up with these…primitive brutes any longer…”

“Impossible…I am already home. _This_ place,” disagrees Sephiroth, waving his right hand around them, “is my home…”

“No, no, _no_ … **NO**!” Shrieks Genesis, his face contorting in rage briefly before slipping back into a calmer façade. His voice, now calm again, yet still disturbing, continues, “You are not home, yet, Beloved. But you will be. You are meant for greatness, you know. Rotting in this place like a chained up whore, is not your destiny. You are not a pet, not a slave, not a concubine. That is not what you deserve, what you will receive. You deserve the best, to live and be cherished, to be loved, like the god that you are. You cannot achieve this with these…dark-skinned heathens, these pathetic excuses for dragons. With us, you will never want for anything. Everyone you want and need…will be yours, and you will never know pain again. All who have harmed you will pay dearly for it, will suffer for always…for daring to harm you. My Beloved…the world will be yours for the taking. It belongs to you and now…it’s time to take it, to take your rightful place…”

Even though Seifer is preoccupied with making his sword, Hyperion, sing with the blood of his enemies, he manages to catch some of Genesis’ words. As he blocks a blow meant to decapitate him, he calls out, “Don’t listen to him, boss! The freak is fucking delusional! Don’t fall for it like I once did. Don’t succumb to those false, deceitful voices…oh _shit_!”

The blond boy, expecting a mortal blow, is surprised when it never comes. He cranes his neck to see why and realizes Squall has just blocked a blow meant for him while lodging a dagger deep in the eye socket of the attacker. He rips the dagger out and kicks the dead white dragon away to fall backwards with a loud, echoing thud. With his back to Seifer’s back, the brunette sheathes his dagger quickly before parrying the slashes of another sword intent on striking him dead. Keeping is focus on defending their position, Squall says, “We all make mistakes, Seifer. Just do not ever make _that_ mistake again, or this one…”

“There’s no fucking way some bitch is ever going to fool me again,” growls Seifer, his glowing blade humming as it slices effortlessly through the sword arm of one of their enemies. His cyan eyes harden as he fights harder, doing his best to keep his head in the game despite the exhaustion beginning to show in both adolescent dragons. The blond calls behind him to Squall, “We might have to use our Guardians, Squall. These fuckers are tough and the boss needs us like yesterday! Not to mention the chief drowning in his own blood over there. We need to do something _soon_ …”

“If it comes to that,” promises Squall.

Something about that scene and Seifer’s words plants an idea in Sephiroth’s head. He doesn’t know if it will work, but he knows he has to try if he wants to catch Genesis off guard and get his _family_ to safety. With this in mind, he slowly lowers his sword and inclines his head curiously. His face matches his skeptical voice as he slowly inquires, “I find this very hard to believe, Genesis. Just a little over a week ago you hated my guts and wanted Vincent for your own. Something is not adding up here. Why should I believe a word you speak?”

“It was a façade, meant to inveigle the fools here. Forgive me for my act, but it was…necessary,” Genesis begins clarifying, the dagger at Yuffie’s throat easing just enough so that the sharp edge is merely pressed against her skin. His bright eyes appear wide, hopeful and desperate as he continues explaining, “It was all a part of the plan. When we found out that you would be coming here…and when you finally arrived, I had to act the part though it pained me to do so. I merely pretended to be interested in Vincent because my Beloved, _our_ Beloved, wants him dead, along with his wretched twin brother. Unfortunately, neither of them fell for my false affections, but they didn’t see through my ploy. It is of little consequence since either way, they will die in the end. My original goal was to seduce and kill the black dragon lords…but when you came along, it changed things, complicated them…yet simplified them.”

“What…do you mean?” Slowly asks the half-elf as he gradually lowers his sword even more to appear less defensive and as if he’s beginning to take the bait. It’s killing him to keep his eyes fastened on Genesis when all he wants to do is rush to his would-be lover and heal him. Thanks to his sharp hearing, he can still hear Vincent’s slow, labored breaths. He knows it’s better if the dragon lord stays conscious, but for this, he wishes he would not. He knows to fool Genesis, he will have to hurt Vincent.

“Their lust for you dulled their senses, distracted them. I cannot say I blame them for being enraptured by your magnificence, but I do blame them for violating you. For touching…for defiling what does not belong to them. But I digress, my love. Where was I? Oh yes…when I was stationed at that fort, I snuck out to meet Rufus and we gathered some men to come infiltrate Kalm. To kill the twin brothers and to bring you home. Chaos, however, ruined that by killing all but Rufus and me. I managed to escape knowing they wouldn’t kill our Beloved. It took some time, but we managed to plan another attack, such as the one on Midgar, meant to either draw you, or at least one of the dragon lords. Obviously it worked…since Chaos is not here. My face is well known in the caves and though I was assigned at Fort Kondor, no one thought twice to question my presence since it’s not unheard of for stationed soldiers to visit their ‘home’. And as I have told you, we are here today…to free our Beloved, and you. This is all for you…”

Sephiroth wants to vomit, but manages to keep from doing so while he asks, “You did all this…for me?”

Genesis smiles wide, his crazed eyes gleaming gleefully. “Yes, of course! We love you and are here to bring you home with us. I know you might not believe me now, but I don’t know what words can prove how I feel, how we feel. The three of us…we are the valiant heroes, and you are the Goddess, well, God, in this case. We intend to protect you, to cherish you always, to love you unconditionally…until the end of time…”

Masamune clatters to the ground when Sephiroth loosens his hand and he keeps himself from flinching at the sound. As he stares at the red-head, he imagines the face of Chaos, his voice, and focuses on his feelings for the absent lord so that he can adorn a convincing expression to deceive Genesis. His hands now free of his weapon, he takes a few slow steps forward as if he’s entranced.

“What in the name of every damned god and goddess are you doing, Seph?! Are you really falling for this load of horseshit?!” Cries Yuffie in disbelief, her rage becoming redirected at the half-elf. “My cousin is on the ground **dying** …and you’re making _eyes_ at this crazy monster?! Have you no decency? I really misjudged you…”

“ _Shut up, bitch_!” Hisses Genesis as he shoves the inured female dragon to the ground near her cousin. His hateful eyes brand themselves on Vincent and Yuffie as he darkly proclaims, “No matter. It’s time I finish the job by killing you and your irritating little bitch cousin.”

“No,” coldly utters the ex-Knight as he approaches them.

Bewildered, both of Genesis’ eyebrows rise up incredulously. “No? What do you mean _no_?”

“Killing them is releasing them from their punishment, Genesis. Death is a release, not a punishment. They deserve to suffer slowly over a long period of time. Killing them now…would not please me since retribution would be denied. No…let them live, let them suffer our reign. If we are to take what we want, to dominate this world and every race, we need an audience…and subjects. We need slaves to serve us. What better slaves than these people here? The very ones who bought and raised me as they personal whore. What say you, beloved?” Reverberates Sephiroth’s cruel, cold voice as he nears the auburn-haired male.

“Of course! You are right, Beloved. Rufus would agree as well. Let us go to him!” Exclaims Genesis elatedly.

The silver-haired hybrid chuckles, “In time, but first…your _reward_ …for your loyalty and devotion. Rufus will not mind waiting a little longer.”

“Oh? What do you have in mind…?” Prompts Genesis, his breath hitching once Sephiroth presses against his body with his own, encircling his strong arms around him in a lover’s embrace. He thinks of both Chaos and Vincent now while he gazes into the red-haired dragon’s awestruck eyes, tilting his head slightly as he leans in to press his lips against the other man’s mouth. The ex-Knight fights back the bile that threatens to rise up from his throat once the red-head forces his mouth open. He opens his mouth, letting the dragon in as he silently summons one of his lighter weapons, a [Kukri](http://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.net/assassinscreed/images/2/2c/Kukri.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150623132422). Masamune’s length can be awkward at times and is better suited at a certain distance. Because he’s embracing the enemy, he chooses one of his secondary weapons. Feeling the hilt of his Kukri in hand, he positions it just right before plunging the 13-inch blade into Genesis’ back with a good deal of force. The sharp, strong blade tears through muscle and breaks bone as it shreds through the dragon’s very heart. Sephiroth pulls his face away from the shocked man to whisper into his ear, “ _I hope you enjoyed your reward_ …” before he ruthlessly rips the Kukri out. He quickly vanishes the Kukri and summons Masamune to him. Once the familiar hilt of his trusted weapon is in hand, he leaps into action, slashing away at every single white dragon near him before they can retaliate. Sneering, he pivots on his heel, sailing through the air as he masterfully swings his weapon at one of Seifer’s assailants. A surge of fire lashes out from the blade, burning the white dragon as it slices through from groin to head. tear

“Holy fucking shit, boss! For a minute there, I thought you were one of them!” Yells Seifer in both awe and relief as he continues to fight on, now renewed since now he knows Sephiroth hasn’t turned traitor, after all.

Yuffie cheers very loudly despite the numerous wounds afflicting her. Since her right arm is broken, she is only able to wave her left arm in the air in triumph. “Yeah, you get ‘em, Sephie! Make them rue the day they showed their ugly mugs in here! That’s right, ugly, I’m talking about you!”

Once all the white dragons are dead on the ground, save Genesis, who is still gurgling blood and gasping for air, Sephiroth flies urgently towards the wounded dragons. He falls to his knees beside Vincent and gingerly places his sword down. The dark-haired man is barely conscious as he stares up at the half-elf with hooded eyes, breathing shallowly. Deathly pale and weak looking, it’s clear he’s barely hanging on by a thread. Alarmed by this, Sephiroth hisses, “ _Don’t you dare die, Vincent, don’t you fucking dare…_ ” before he closes his eyes, concentrating hard as he begins casting various healing spells that Aerith had taught him. He focuses on casting Cure Critical Wounds on the more serious wounds and once he’s certain Vincent isn’t at death’s door anymore, he casts a couple Restoration spells, one to restore blood loss and the other to restore energy. Before he can cast another spell, the crimson-eyed man sits up, grabbing the half-elf’s hands. He shakes his head slowly and says, “Sephiroth…you have done more than enough. Thank you, but save your strength...”

Sephiroth’s eyes widen once he remembers the female dragon and feels some guilt since he had temporarily forgotten about her. Glancing around, he’s relieved when he spots Squall and Seifer casting Cures on a smug looking Yuffie who is obviously basking in the attention of two young, attractive males.

“You protected my cousin…you protected me. For a moment, I thought you were…” murmurs Vincent as if he finds this difficult to believe. He sighs, scrubbing his face as shame fills his entire being. He then whispers, “… _I thought…you would run like she did…and I believed…you would join him. I am sorry_ …”

“I am nothing like _her_ , I told you that. I also told you I wasn’t interested in Shinra, and I still am not. That bitch is a goddamn ghost now…so just let her go already. You do not need her anymore, you have me, and I will never hurt you. I would rather die a thousand agonizing deaths than harm one hair on your head. Is it really that difficult to believe that I can, and do love you?” Spits out Sephiroth in frustration without thinking on his words before releasing them from his mouth. He freezes on the spot once he realizes exactly what he has just admitted to the older man. The silver-haired male averts his eyes as a rosy color flushes on his smooth, porcelain cheeks.

“No, it is not difficult to believe such a thing. To believe it is one thing, but to _know_ it is another,” says the raven-haired man, reaching out to lightly grasp the elf’s chin to turn Sephiroth’s face up towards him so that he is looking at him. When jade eyes reluctantly lock onto his burning crimson orbs, he beseeches, “Forgive me…I believed, but did not know. I know now, Sephiroth. I am finished being a fool…”

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I really thought the lovin’ would happen this chapter, but this chapter needed to reach a stopping point (goddamn almost 9000 words this time) and I didn’t wanna rush it, so if you’re one of the ones looking forward to the Vin/Seph love scene, that’ll be in CH10 for sure. 
> 
> As for the Chaos lovers, he will return in CH10.
> 
> I know, Reeve is really silly in this. He’d have to be to create something like Cait Sith, so if he seems a tad more ridiculous compared to the games, forgive me, but I had to. xD And yes, if you squint, there are hints of Reeve/Tseng.


	10. Submersion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Character Death, M/M smut (See tags), First Time. Don’t like, don’t read. 
> 
> I dunno, I’m not too ecstatic with how both chapter 10 of UTS and TDB came out, but I’ll let ya’ll be the judge. I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> In the words of Stan Smith [American Dad!]: “If two men want to open up to each other and share a love more sweet and exquisite than anything a man and woman could ever find together, then that’s their problem.”

 

“We should go check on Shinra,” suggests Sephiroth as he helps Vincent rise up to stand on his feet. Even though his dark-haired mate stands on his own, he keeps an arm wrapped loosely around his waist just in case.

A cold, calculating voice cuts through the air like an arrow narrowly missing its intended target. “No need, I am already here, _precious_ …”

The body guards Seifer and Squall quickly flank their lords with their swords raised defensively, thrumming with the energy of their magic. Yuffie quickly bounces up from the ground to join them, her fists balled up and raised. They all stand wound up and ready to attack should the order be given.

“There is really no need for that,” murmurs the white dragon male as he slowly kneels down next to a dying Genesis. His pale, icy eyes stare down at the dying male while he brushes aside some strands of auburn hair out of a pale face.

“Beloved…I-I t-tried,” stutters Genesis, his breath both shallow and labored as he quickly bleeds to death, his blood pooling around his body.

“I know you did, pet. I could save you,” replies Rufus in a cold, sing-song tone of voice that makes everyone in the room shiver just a little bit. He pats the red-head on the cheek with pity a few times like someone might to a dying cow or horse. His hands move to gently cup both sides of the dying dragon’s face and he leans forward as if he might kiss him, but instead, he breaks his neck in one smooth, fluid motion as he sighs, “…but you _failed_.”

“That’s kind of fucked up,” mumbles Seifer, his hand clenching the hilt of Hyperion even more tightly now. For a split second, he chances a glance at Sephiroth and asks, “What now, boss? Do we kill the cold fucker or do we capture him?”

Sephiroth turns his head to look at Vincent and when their eyes meet, he finds his answer. Without taking his eyes away, he commands, “We kill him…even if it risks war with the rest of _them_.”

Rufus’ callous laughter fills the chamber, echoing all round them like a cacophony of angry bells banging together. He slowly stands up, still laughing, but lowly now, not sparing the dead red-head another glance. The white dragon turns so that he’s facing the small group of armed men. His arms slowly rise up from his sides to lift up like wings, palms facing upwards. The laughter tapers off as he now focuses his chilly gaze on the silver-haired half-elf. “In due time, Beloved. The _Reunion_ will have to wait, unfortunately. You are not ready, yet, but you will be…soon enough. We will join, become one…and the world will pay, even the Heavens will pay. Everything Genesis said is true and you can deny it all you wish to, but you will succumb sooner or later, willing or not, _Beloved_ …”

“ _Beloved_ , huh? We’ve all seen what you **do** to the ones you call your Beloved!” Spits out Yuffie, glaring at the white dragon with a mixture of utter fury and loathing.

“You have not seen anything, yet,” promises Rufus and with a flash of light, he disappears from view before anyone can move a muscle to attack him.

“Where’d he go?!” Shrieks Yuffie, running over to the place the white dragon lord’s son had been previously standing.

Vincent distractedly murmurs, “He is gone now. There is no point scouring the caves for him…”

Seifer curses loudly at the missed opportunity and if he had less discipline and respect, he might have thrown his weapon down in frustration. Instead, he loudly exclaims, “What in the seven hells is wrong with that guy?”

“I agree with Seifer. There is something odd, wrong…about that man,” quietly says Squall. His stormy eyes eventually rest on the deceased form of Genesis for a few moments before flicking back to Vincent and Sephiroth. “Something is amiss. I have never known anyone with that type of presence before. I have never met Rufus in my life before now, but it makes me wonder…if that is the _real_ Rufus…”

“You think that was a doppelganger, or a puppet?” Queries the half-elf with a concerned frown.

The raven-haired lord suggests, “Or _something_ else…”

“That’s creepy, I don’t like it,” grumbles the female dragon.

“I need you three to find Tseng and Reeve. Tell them what has occurred here, and I want men searching the caves and the forest for _anything_ that appears out of place or strange,” orders the crimson-eye dragon, a strange, glazed look in his eyes. He still appears distracted as if his mind is a million miles away somewhere else.

“Right away, chief,” responds Seifer before grabbing Squall by the forearm and nearly dragging the shorter male out of the chamber. Yuffie casts her cousin a worried glance before bounding after the two young males. She screeches after them, “ **HEY! WAIT FOR ME, YA JERKS**!”

“I do not know what you plan to do now, but you should rest and not exert yourself more. You still have some minor injuries and you need to sleep. You _are_ going to rest,” firmly says Sephiroth as he turns them around to leave the chamber as well with every intention of dragging the older man to their shared chambers.

Vincent surprises his mate by complying, his voice almost breathless, “That would be best, yes…”

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

After shutting the door, Sephiroth locks it to guarantee that no one barges in unannounced. Like Yuffie, for example. She’d probably be the only one to rush in, since she’d done it before, but this way, he’d ensure that Vincent’s rest was undisturbed. The man had been operating on little rest, like Sephiroth, but unlike the half-elf, Vincent had nearly died. The urge to safeguard him from all harm, to pamper him overwhelms him. Realistically, he knows that he should be out there helping the others; however, his heart easily overrides his brain this time. They will just have to do without him this time since it is his duty to protect, care for, and stand beside both of his mates. The selfish part of himself compels him to put them above _all_ others, even his sister and father. He realizes this now and isn’t sure how to feel about it. A part of him feels guilty for caring more about the twins than his own sister and father. But maybe that isn’t true…maybe it’s not that he cares more; it could be that Chaos and Vincent are his duty now and he’s needed _and_ wanted by them. He doesn’t understand it really, but he does know that something is _binding_ them together in such a way it feels like it consumes him every day, in a good way. Though he’s not familiar with this bizarre feeling, he knows it must be directly connected to the first time he had touched Chaos and then later, Vincent. The touch that felt like gratifying, liquid fire shooting through his veins, consuming him completely.

Knowing he should be helping Vincent and not thinking about such things, he shakes away those in favor of turning around to aid the dragon lord. His words barely leave his mouth before another mouth crushes his, silencing anything else he means to say. “Vincent, do you— _oomph_!”

A very _nude_ body pushes him hard against the door, hands working quickly to rid him of his loin cloth. He hisses into the mouth kissing his own as a silky and hot erection presses hard against his groin. The half-elf moans into the dominating mouth, feeling his own dick stirring to life quickly due to the heady, overwhelming friction of hips grinding mercilessly against him. His hands scratch at flesh, trying to find purchase as he rocks his hips and responds enthusiastically to the kiss. When he opens his eyes and spots some old blood splattered against tanned flesh, he suddenly remembers where they are and what Vincent should really be doing right now. It takes every ounce of self-control he has left to turn his face away, panting as he tries to calm himself. Vincent isn’t deterred by that and instead sucks, bites, and licks at his tempting neck without breaking any skin.

“Vincent…you should be resting, you should take it easy,” groans Sephiroth, the last vestiges of his self-control quickly slipping away due to the wandering hands, busy mouth, and grinding body against his own. With the way his body is being assaulted, it becomes increasingly difficult to remember that the older man still has some minor injuries and needs some rest to completely recover.

“Fuck taking it easy. I cannot…resist it anymore,” confesses Vincent, his husky voice dripping with unbridled lust. His hands trail roughly down Sephiroth’s sides until they latch onto long, strong thighs. He easily lifts the slightly shorter male, grinding harder into him as long legs quickly wrap around him. Vincent’s hands drag up those thighs until they reach Sephiroth’s ass, squeezing and kneading his muscular buttocks. Arms hang onto him as he turns around, supporting Sephiroth’s weight as he carries him over to their bed. Despite the urgency and his rough touches, he is careful and gentle when he lays the younger man down onto his back. After he’s settled between mile long legs, his darkened eyes look down to meet eyes just as affected as he is. Through his aroused haze, he finally realizes he’s not quite certain what to do now. He knows exactly what he wants to do to Sephiroth, but it’s obvious he’s not sure how to proceed. Exhaling deeply, he admits, “I want you, but…”

Sephiroth smirks up at him and automatically reaches into the furs without having to look, snatching one of the several vials of oil Chaos likes to keep handy nearby at all times. He rips the cork off with his teeth and spits it across the room in a random direction. The silver-haired man scooches back a bit, adjusting his position by shoving a pillow under the small of his back. He then pours some of the oil onto his fingers as he spreads his legs more so that it will be easier to prep himself. He has done this a dozen times or so to himself in several different positions upon Chaos’ insistence. This is the easiest way to show Vincent how exactly to prep him and also to tease him a bit, too. With that in mind, he slowly circles two oil slicked fingers around the pucker of his orifice, liberally applying the oil before easing one finger inside. He has to force himself to keep his muscles relaxed since his body still instinctively wants to protest the intrusion. Once he feels relaxed enough, he slips another finger inside, slowly working himself open with gentle scissoring motions. He bites his lip to focus himself and to keep from moaning when he adds a third finger. The half-elf chances a glance at the dragon and is pleased to know that the man seems captivated by the little demonstration. Smirking, he motions with his other hand for the entranced man to approach him and is tempted to laugh when Vincent continues to crouch on the bed, head tilted and pupils blown wide. The raven-haired male seems too transfixed to notice the motioning of his hand.

“Come here, Vincent. I want to show you something,” orders Sephiroth, his patience beginning to wear thin now.

Snapping out of his daze, the raven-haired man crawls closer until he’s once more settled between splayed, creamy pale thighs. He trails one hand from the top of the knee to the thigh and before veering down to Sephiroth’s inner thigh until fingertips glide over a groin, purposely avoiding the enflamed erection to skim down to join the half-elf’s fingers where they’re currently buried. Although he appears hesitant at first, he eventually caves in to his own desires by breeching the slick orifice, his fingers sliding against Sephiroth until the rest alongside them. The contracting muscles clench against the several invading digits, causing the older man to breathe raggedly. At this point, the half-elf knows he needs to speed things along before either of them lost it completely. Probing inside himself, he carefully searches and when he crooks his fingers just right, he brushes against his sweet spot. The spark of pleasure forces him to screw his eyes shut and arch his back more and jerk his lower body down on the penetrating fingers. It takes every ounce of self-control to still himself so that he can calm down. The silver-haired ex-Knight doesn’t crave fingers right now; he years for something much bigger and hotter.

“Follow my fingers,” urges Sephiroth, his voice breathless as he fights not to fuck himself on their fingers. Crooking his fingers again, he moans when he feels Vincent mirroring his actions. When he feels the tip of the other man’s middle finger graze his prostate, he breathily asks, “Do you feel _that_?”

“Yes, I feel it,” confirms Vincent, forcing his fingers in deeper to rub as many of them as he could against that little nub that made the younger male thrash around in ecstasy. Even though he’s never lain with another man, he has walked in on Chaos enough times to know what it’s supposed to look like. The only thing holding him back is self-doubt; unlike Chaos, Vincent isn’t a skilled, experienced lover. He doesn’t know if he can please Sephiroth in the same way, or even close to it. Worse, he fears he might accidentally injure him due to his own embarrassing inexperience.

As if reading Vincent’s thoughts, Sephiroth growls loudly as he jerks himself away. In a burst of rapid motion, he shoves the dragon flat onto his back and quickly straddles him, his rear dangerously close to the older man’s engorged dick. Pouring more oil on his hand, he reaches behind him and hastily coats Vincent’s erection liberally with it. His slick hand wraps around the other man’s cock, holding it as he raises himself, positioning his body just right before sinking down torturously slow. Sephiroth’s head rolls back as his hand continues to guide inch after inch of Vincent’s impressive length into his stretched, yet still taut ass. The sheer girth of the man burns him deliciously as it splits him open, making his thighs shake from the strain and the pleasure of it. Once the raven-haired man has filled him to the hilt, he remains still, his hands moving forward to rest on a tanned, scarred chest. His green eyes look down and he nearly loses it at the wrecked sight of his garnet-eyed mate. Their eyes connect the same moment as a pair of hands, one bearing metal claws, grips his hips tightly.

“That spot you touched…I need you to aim for it, to hit it as many times as you can. Whatever you are thinking right now… **stop** …just _feel_. I trust you,” Sephiroth coaches right before he begins moving, rising up only to slide back down again and again until he’s found a steady rhythm and pace that they both seem to like. He’s pleased to find out that Vincent is a far from passive lover since he’s busy thrusting up into him while his hands manipulate the half-elf’s movements, pulling him up and down in whatever way he desires. Whatever self-doubts the dragon lord has are now long gone, replaced by the basic instinct to copulate.

Unlike the half-elf, Vincent is mostly silent save for the occasional grunt or growl that manages to leak out somehow. It doesn’t take long for Vincent to reach release and when he does, his teeth are gritted and eyes rolled back. A strangled noise escapes him as an abundant amount of his seed fills Sephiroth, coating his insides and oozing out. Despite his release, he is still hard and wanting as he rolls them over, pinning the slighter male down without pulling completely out. He bends one of Sephiroth’s legs to the half-elf’s chest as he buries himself all the way in. Leaning over, he feverishly kisses the younger male all over his face, not minding the salty taste of his sweat. He huskily murmurs, “I am sorry…I need you…”

“Have me…as many times as you need. I will not break,” purrs Sephiroth with promise before he undulates his hips in a clear invitation. Back suddenly bowed, and head thrown back, he cries out in ecstasy when the older man slams in hard against his sweet spot. He wantonly bucks against the larger male, eagerly accepting every single inch the dragon has to offer him. At some point, he has both of his long, pale legs wrapped around Vincent’s waist as the man pounds into him hard and fast, angled just right to hit his prostate almost every single time. It’s not long before he reaches his own peak, screaming his release as the dark-haired man continues to ram into him at an almost brutal pace.

When Sephiroth recovers from his orgasm, he realizes he’s been flipped over, face and chest pressed against the bed with his back curved and ass up. Vincent is gripping his hips hard enough to bruise as he rocks into his tight heat at a frenzied, rough speed that reawakens interest in Sephiroth’s recently softened, now hardening dick. Clawing at the furs, he uses his hands to brace himself to avoid suffocating himself, not to mention the resulting neck pain he would surely gain. He had made the mistake before of not using his hands to brace himself and had ended up with some severe neck pain that lasted a few days. There’s not much he can do except take it since Vincent is fucking him so hard and fast like a beast in rut. His hands held his hips in an iron grip, keeping him in place while forcing a litany of moans, screams, and garbled words to spill out of the delirious half-elf’s mouth.

Eventually, Vincent slows down enough so that he can drape himself over the other male’s back. His lips kiss a hot, wet trail up his spine until he finally reaches Sephiroth’s neck, to which he bites and sucks while he ruts, his thrusts much slower, yet deeper now. The silver-haired man turns his head as far as he can so that they can sloppily kiss while panting and groaning into each other’s mouths as the black dragon continues to roll his hips with enough power to make his lover’s nerves sing loudly. His right hand reaches over, fumbling until he finds the half-elf’s hand, to which he lays his own hand on top of, his fingers slotting in-between long, pale digits. Their hands clench together, tightening more so with every excruciatingly gratifying thrust into Sephiroth’s pliant, sweat-slicked body.

Just like the first night with Chaos, Sephiroth realizes that Vincent will not be stopping anytime soon. The half-elf intends to remain fully conscious this time, though, and to fulfil his promise. Unlike last time, thanks to Chaos, he is far more experienced and bears more stamina now. If Vincent is anything like his twin brother, and so far it seems true, then he will have several hours of passionate lovemaking to enjoy until they both pass out from exhaustion.  

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“You should get some sleep,” slurs Sephiroth after waking up from a short nap, eyes bleary and voice slightly hoarse. He’s still tired, but had woken up to the caress of fingers tracing his abdominal muscles and Adonis belt. Vincent is lying on his side against him, part of his face hidden by the half-elf’s chest and various lengths of unruly dark hair. His blood-colored eyes are open and unfocused as his right hand languidly strokes any skin it can reach.

Vincent’s hand paused in mid stroke for only a moment before resuming its duty once more. Still gazing at nothing, he sighs, “I am not tired…”

“Worried about Chaos? I know I am. Do you think he is doing all right? I have not heard anything about him in awhile,” asks the green-eyed male, feeling spikes of worry now. He had been feeling them earlier, but had temporality been distracted by their long and rather passionate lovemaking just an hour or so ago. He suddenly feels guilt wrench him at the thought he had been busy enjoying himself when his other mate was out there, open for probable attack.

“He is fine,” promises Vincent, pressing a soft kiss to the younger man’s chest.

“How do you know? Did he send word?”

Vincent slings his arm across the man’s chest and adjusts his position so he’s partially lying on Sephiroth with his chin propped on his own arm so he can look at him without stabbing the other with the bony part of his chin. He sighs again, “I just know. We are… _connected_. It is hard to explain, but I can feel if he is ok or not, to a certain extent. If he were badly injured, or dead, I would _feel_ that. I am certain he forgot to tell you since to us, it is like breathing. It did not occur to him to reveal such a thing. The only one who knew about our connection was our mother, no one else. In a way, he’s like an extension of me and I to him. It is probably why the idea of sharing you with him did not bother me and still does not. Sometimes…I wonder if we were the same person in our mother’s womb, but split apart somehow into two separate people…”

“I cannot say I understand it…but it sounds wonderful,” says Sephiroth, lifting his arm to run his fingers through the tousled mess of inky black hair. He stares at nothing in particular as he mulls over Vincent’s words. Sometime during his pondering, a thought strikes him, forcing him to sit up quickly, nearly throwing the older man off of him in the process. “Wait…if you can feel each other when badly injured, then that means he probably felt you _dying_...”

As if on cue, there’s a loud banging on the door that turns into a loud crack as something strong knocks one of the doors down so that it lands with a heavy thud, causing dust and dirt to shoot upwards.  There stands an agitated, pissed off Chaos with his chest heaving as if he’s been running for hours. His long black hair is an unruly mess, looking as if he’d walked through a twister.  His golden eyes lock onto his twin and the moment he sees him; he visibly calms down before glancing at the half-elf.

“ _Really_ , Chaos. Was that necessary?” Heavily sighs Vincent, sitting cross legged now as he waits patiently.

“You nearly died…and since when do you _lock_ the doors?” Gripes Chaos as he crouches down to pick up the door and prop it partway against the opening and the wall. He sniffs the air and then wrinkles his nose when he smells something unexpected. Slowly turning around, he closely scrutinizes his brother and lover, still looking remarkably irate until suddenly, it vanishes and is replaced by a shit-eating smile of epic proportions. He immediately pounces on them both, forcing both shocked, naked men into a tight bear hug. “FINALLY! By the gods, I was on the brink of drugging you just so you would finally nail _sweetness_ here. Haha, I am proud of you, little brother. You are a man now…”

“I was a man _before_ it,” drawls Vincent, breaking away from the forced, unwanted embrace.

Sephiroth says nothing, watching them with mirth and not making any move to pull away. Instead, he turns around in Chaos’ arms to face him as he winds his arms around the larger man. There is nothing he particularly wants to say at this moment since he feels whole and completely relaxed now that he has both twins with him. Not to mention, he’s still exhausted from the marathon sex that had ended barely an hour ago. Seems like to him that both twins have more in common then they both know. This makes him smirk as he buries his face into Chaos’ neck, his head tucked under the dragon’s chin as he inhales this comforting scent he has missed.

“So…how was it?” Asks the golden-eyed dragon lord after forcibly tumbling on the bed backwards with the half-elf so that they were lying together. Although his question is directed at both men, he suspects that neither will answer just yet. Or ever. After all, Sephiroth is a screamer, not a talker. And Vincent…well, Vincent is Vincent.

Sephiroth snorts before tugging on one of Chaos’ horns and feels a sense of satisfaction when the man winces though he knows he didn’t actually hurt him.

Vincent sighs again despite the small smirk that curls on his lips. “Is _that_ really important right now?”

“Well, yeah. Tseng already filled me in on everything,” says Chaos with a shrug.

Surprised by this, Vincent questions, “You actually _listened_ to **everything** he had to say?”

The long silence that follows is more than enough of an answer for Vincent, who ultimately decides to drop the subject for now. A wave of exhaustion washes over him, causing him to lay down on his back, his eyes beginning to droop. He grunts in mild surprise when the silver-haired warrior latches onto him, pulling him closer so that they’re all lying in their usual, comfortable positions.

“Nice try, Vincent. No one gets to bang me without cuddling,” Sephiroth scolds before smoothing aside some dark locks of hair to press a small kiss on the shorter twin’s forehead. He can’t help smirking a little at the poorly suppressed laughter that rumbles behind him.

Chaos’ face looms closer, his mouth barely an inch away from one of Sephiroth’s pointed ears. As he fondly trails a hand down the expanse of the half-elf’s pale flesh, he whispers, _“You were right to stay behind, Sephiroth. Because of you, my brother is still alive. If I were not already madly in love with you, I would be now…”_

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The following day, Sephiroth finds himself outside tending to his black stallion. He had been the first to wake up and had chosen to check up on Mako since it has been quite a long while. He had also left a note behind so that when either twin woke up, they would know where he was and not panic about his absence. Seifer and Squall are outside with him as well, both lightly sparring to pass the time. Though they are busy clanging swords together, they still manage to keep an eye on their surroundings.

While Sephiroth brushes Mako’s long, dark mane, the horse attempts to lick him in the face in spite of his protests. Face repulsed by the steed’s obnoxious, yet amusing actions, he shoves Mako’s face away again and again until he finally gives up on the task of brushing the stallion’s mane. He heavily sighs, “What am I going to do with you?”

“SEPH!” Screams Yuffie from across the meadow as she charges towards him as fast as her little legs can take her. Her face is panicked and overwhelmed like she’s fleeing a stampede of beasts. The female dragon jumps the last ten feet, landing behind Sephiroth and using him as a shield as Cid appears before them, looking flabbergasted.

“Woman, get back here!” Orders the blond man crossly.

“Gods, Seph, that stupid man won’t leave me alone!” Loudly complains the dark-haired girl who then proceeds to stick her tongue out at her husband.

Sephiroth blinked slowly as he glances at the quarreling couple. He wonders if they fight often and he hopes they don’t plan on involing him every single time. Sighing wearily, he smacks Mako on the ass as a silent signal for the equine to get out of his hair since he is finished with him. Although he’s tempted to just walk away, he grudgingly asks, “Why? What did you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something? I did nothing. That idiot is just upset I was injured and keeps pawing and fussing over me. Not to mention he’s all super horny all of a sudden and won’t stop trying—“ Blabbers Yuffie until Sephiroth whirls around and quickly fastens his hand over her mouth to put a stop to her deranged ranting.

At a loss for what to do in this odd situation, he decides to say, “Woah, woah…calm down now. What do you expect me to do?”

“Punish him! Throw him in the dungeons for a week!” Shrieks the dark-haired girl after somehow prying the ex-Knight Commander’s hand from her mouth.

“Yuff is just overreacting as usual,” exclaims Cid as he throws his hands up in the air in exasperation. “I give up! Fine, be that way, woman. See if I fucking care,” grunts the human as he turns away to stomp off towards the caves again.

“ **CID**! **GET YOUR NO GOOD HUMAN ASS BACK HERE**!” Hollers Yuffie, her voice blanketed by a severe warning the man knows all too well. He immediately freezes on the spot, his shoulders locking up like a kid that got caught trying to sneak away.

“Cid, if you know what is good for you, stop smothering your wife. Yuffie, go home and give your man a break,” sternly orders the half-elf, his green eyes narrowed to thin slits as he shoots the dragoness and her mate a withering glare. He is clearly beyond being annoyed at having to deal with their spousal problems when he has bigger issues to deal with. He silently hopes that this doesn’t become a regular occurrence between the three of him.

Seifer laughs without restraint as he watches Cid and Yuffie high tail it out of there without so much as a word to anyone. Shaking his head, he sheathes Hyperion and nudges Squall, “Boss would make a good parent, don’t you think.”

“I’ve never had anyone to compare a parent to, but you’re probably right,” agrees the brunette, turning his face to hide a slight smile from the both of them.

“What are you two going on about?” Inquires Sephiroth with a huff before he suddenly turns his back on them to stare at the horizon where there are the very faint forms of something approaching. An unmistakable sound reaches his sharp hearing, causing him to squint in an effort to see the source of the noise. Waving the body guards over, he reveals, “Someone is coming. I hear horses…sounds like at least twenty men or so…”

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that, and more will be available soon enough. Chapter is a bit shorter, but I’m sure mostly everyone is reading this chapter mostly for the smut, anyway. xD 
> 
> I didn't get a chance to do a final edit, so the chapter may be a bit rough in areas. Hopefully it isn't. Also...I originally was going to have Genesis live, but I changed my mind. Sorry...not sorry.


	11. Requiem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay. My bitch muse was fighting me hard and well, I was finally on vacation for a week, so I didn’t write much. I’m going to continue updating, but the updates may not be every week like it’s been since the beginning because I feel burned out and these chapters were ridiculously difficult for me to grind out. Otherwise, enjoy and thanks for everything.

When the horses and their riders are close enough for Sephiroth’s sharp, elven eyes to see more clearly, he notices that the men are bearing the familiar regalia of King Gast of Midgar. Despite this, he doesn’t relax since this could be a trap set by Shinra, which prompts him to continue to cautiously watch their rapid approach. They’re still a great distance away and will take at least another five-ten minutes of galloping before they’re close enough to holler at one another.

“They might be soldiers from Midgar,” starts the half-elf, which snaps two pairs of surprised eyes on him. Frowning slightly, he then adds, “However…this may be a trap. It is easy enough for men to steal armor, banners, and horses. Squall, I want you to transform somewhere else a distance away, into your dragon form and take to the air. Keep an eye on them. Seifer and I will remain on the ground for now.”

“Yes, Sephiroth,” responds Squall as he turns and dashes into the forest at an inhumane speed, making him look like an unrecognizable, streaking blur.

“I think I should transform, too, but stay here with you just in case we need to get of here quick,” suggests Seifer, an antsy look in his eye as he keeps glancing towards the direction his compatriot had gone.

Sephiroth summons Masamune and sighs blissfully when he feels the familiar, comforting hilt of his sword in his hand. He glances at his personal guard for a moment as if considering, yet ends up shaking his head before smirking. “No, stay in your humanoid form. I have no intention of scampering off like a coward. If they are enemies to us, we will fight and kill them. Squall has our backs if we need him to ‘rescue’ us. Besides…between the two of us here, I am sure we can handle almost anything.”

Seifer returns his smirk before looking back towards the approaching men on horseback. “All right then…bring it on, dipshits…well, if they are dipshits. They could be your buddies for all we know…”

Nodding curtly, the ex-Knight Commander watches the forms of the horses and their riders looming closer and closer until his sharp eyes can zoom in on the riders clad in the typical, navy blue Midgar Knight armor. Unfortunately, all of them are wearing the helmets save for a familiar looking blond-haired rider leading from the front. The silver-haired man resists smiling as he glances over his shoulder at Seifer. “The one leading them looks like Cloud, the rest…I cannot say. I do not think Zack is with them.”

“Curious how they didn’t send word ahead of time,” points out the blond adolescent dragon.

Frowning slightly, Sephiroth admits, “I was thinking the same thing, too…”

“Maybe there wasn’t time…or they didn’t want to accidentally tip off the wrong people?”

“Could be. We are about to find out in a moment…”

"Yeah,” sighs Seifer, glancing once more in the direction Squall had recently departed like a dog longing to follow after his master.

“Does it hurt…when you transform?” Asks Sephiroth after noticing his guard’s restlessness. For a moment, he follows Seifer’s gaze, spotting nothing but tall trees, blue skies, drifting clouds, and swaying grass. In his mind’s eye, he can see Squall fully transformed in his dragon form, which admittedly isn’t as impressive as Vincent or Chaos, yet it is still a breathtaking, surreal sight to behold. To change, especially so quickly, between a humanoid and dragon form is something beyond his comprehension. It’s something he’s wondered about for awhile, but never could find the chance to politely ask. In fact, there are a lot of things he’s curious about; however, with the constant disturbances in their lives, he usually temporarily forgets about his inquiries. This is Seifer, though, who doesn’t care about diplomacy or manners at all. He’s a brash, honest young man who isn’t afraid to voice his opinion, no matter how unfavorable it may be to others. Because of this fact, Sephiroth is fairly confident that his personal guard will not deny him the true nor hold his interest against him.

Seifer looks puzzled as if he doesn’t know how to answer such a question or maybe because he’s never been asked such a thing before. With a casual shrug, he offhandedly answers, “I don’t really know _how_ to describe how it feels. It doesn’t hurt or anything particularly bad, but it does feel…uncomfortable to a certain degree. I’m used to it, I guess, and it happens so quickly that…I barely notice anything unpleasant. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” mutters the ex-Knight, his emerald gaze fixed ahead on the men on horseback, riding as if they have demons hot on their heels.

Once the riders are within fifteen meters, they slow down their mounts until the horses are trotting briskly to avoid trampling the pair. The blond knight signals for the other men to halt and once they obey, he ambles his steed towards Sephiroth and Seifer. Sky blue eyes glance at the blond dragon for a moment before flickering back to the half-elf. Once he’s close enough, he dismounts from his horse and keeps the reins in hand in case the equine somehow gets spooked. His strides are more careful than usual and he gently guides the horse along as if it is toting the most precious of cargo.

“You look well, Sephiroth,” states Cloud and though he seems relieved to see him, the blond man has the aura of a man teetering on the very edge. He is hiding something…or protecting something. His normally healthy skin tone is a sickly color with dark circles engraved under his eyes, a testament that something is wrong. It’s obvious to Sephiroth that the younger man hasn’t slept in days, perhaps longer; or may be stressed or sick.

Sephiroth nods curtly. “I am as well as I can be. How do you fare? You…do not look well. To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”

“I am alive,” sighs Cloud, his hand tightening momentarily on the reins he held without causing discomfort to the weary horse. He glances towards his men and adds in a whisper, “The men are tired and the horses need to be tended to. I have much to tell you, but I fear doing so out in the open lest we have been followed. I do not think we have, but you never know these days. I think we should retire elsewhere…if you do not mind, that is…”

“Not at all. Follow me.” The half-elf nods his understanding before turning to lead them towards the stables. He nods to Seifer as he looks to him, conveying with his eyes exactly what he wants him to do. The blond dragon nods back, slowing his steps as he subtly hangs back to keep an eye on the group as he follows. With the way things have been lately, it is wise for them to be cautious, even around those they regard as friends. For all he knows, Cloud and the company of Midgar Knights are being coerced into treachery.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

During the fifteen-minute trek to the stables, ( _located in a cave of course_ ) Sephiroth subtly glances over at Cloud and his horse every now and then due to the intense, prickly feeling of being intently watched. Every time he looks, the blond knight isn’t even looking at him and there’s seemingly nothing else there. His instincts are screaming at him as if desperately trying to tell him something that he doesn’t quite understand. What’s more is there is a familiar scent in the air that teases him since every time he tries to pinpoint it, it disappears completely. Whatever is going on, Sephiroth is certain there is some type of magic at play here. Because he’s a novice and is limited to knowing some destructive and restorative spells, he’s not particularly knowledgeable about spells pertaining to illusion. Despite that, most of the time he can still detect magic and sometimes he can even feel old magic lingering in the air. He only knows this due to his sister once telling him that whenever he feels that strange, prickly feeling rubbing or raking against his skin, it’s magic at play. Since there’s magic in his blood due to his half-elven heritage, the magic all around him tends to react to him, which causes the strange sensations to occur.

Once they’re inside the cave that’s used as stables for horses and other types of mounts, the stable boys immediately assist the Knights in caring for their exhausted steeds. Sephiroth takes advantage of the distraction to pull a very reluctant Cloud away from his horse and behind a stable wall to avoid prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“Cloud, _who_ is that on your horse? I know someone is there though I cannot see them. Are you being blackmailed into deceiving me? Whatever it is, I can help you, but you have to trust me,” murmurs Sephiroth without releasing his tight hold on Cloud’s upper arm. He notices the tight, pained expression on the blond’s averted face as if he is internally struggling with something. He’s about to speak again when he feels delicate fingers touch his free hand, which startles him enough to release Cloud from his vice-like grip.

“ _Relax, it’s just me_ ,” whispers a very familiar female voice. The hand from before touches the half-elf’s hand again and this time, he doesn’t jerk away. He allows the small hand to slip into his own, much larger hand, momentarily clasping together until he decides to gently pull his hand away.

“I am sorry for the deceit, really I am, but it was necessary. No one can know she is here,” apologizes the blond soldier, his fair face mirroring the sincerity in his quiet, soft-spoken voice.

“Follow me,” orders Sephiroth in a firm voice as he walks around the wall and heads them towards a secret entrance that only Sephiroth and a select few others know about. Waving his hand in a particular fashion, a hole in the solid stone wall appears soundlessly. He steps through quickly, standing to the side as he waits for them both to enter. Once he’s certain they’re both safely inside, he waves his hand again and the entrance seals itself. With a curt nod, he turns left and quickly leads them through the left passageway since the right tunnel leads towards bathing chambers, dining halls, and eventually the city.

The tension in the air is thick between them as Sephiroth strides swiftly, forcing the other two, smaller companions to nearly run behind him just to keep up with his long legs. What feels like hours, but is far less, passes before they reach their destination. The half-elf stops outside a door and motions for them to wait before he opens the door and peers inside cautiously. Once he’s satisfied that they are indeed alone, he gestures for them to follow as he steps inside the room. Once they’re both inside, he shuts and locks the door before turning to face them. His lips are in a tight line and eyes narrowed as he stares at Cloud expectantly. Crossing his arms against his broad chest, he raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. “Well? Start talking…”

“Wait!” Pipes up Aerith. Though he can’t see her, he can hear her footsteps tapping against the floor as she jogs over to the door. A few words, in what sounds like a dead language, are murmured and Sephiroth recognizes them since he’s heard her utter them before. He knows it is an incantation to silence the room from eavesdroppers. The energy of the magic thrums and prickles across his skin, making him frown more. His frown fades when she utters another spell, which reveals her true form to his eyes, no longer cloaking her from view. “I do apologize for that. The extra precautions are necessary, I assure you.”

“Is anyone going to tell me what is going on or do I have to consult Cait Sith?” Gripes Sephiroth, no longer frowning, but still annoyed that they seem to be dragging their feet.

Aerith and Cloud exchange glances before focusing their undivided attentions on the ex-knight with the gunmetal hair. The Princess of Midgar steps forward, taking Sephiroth’s hand into her smaller one before leading him over to the couches. She gingerly sits down and waits patiently until Cloud and Sephiroth are both seated to begin. “Father is dead. He was… _murdered_. By whom, we do not know. You know how he was sick for a long time? Well…Zack overheard someone talking about it…how the King was being slowly poisoned by someone he trusted, and they also mentioned I was next to die. How, we do not know. Zack captured the two conspirators, but they wouldn’t talk…no matter what was done to them. The moment I tried to use a spell to reveal the truth, they…died. It was obvious to me at that moment that whoever was behind this, is still behind this, applied a counter curse to protect their identity, just in case their cohorts were discovered. I wanted to stay and find who murdered our father, but Zack wouldn’t have it. He had me knocked out unconscious and ordered Cloud to flee the city to seek refuge with you. Cloud told me there is someone playing as my doppelganger of sorts, most likely a shapeshifter or some witch, to avoid suspicion to keep me protected. Believe you me, I did not want to come here and endanger any of you, but the choice was, one _again_ , taken from me.”

“Zack stayed behind to ‘protect’ the Aerith decoy. It would have been suspicious if her Knight Commander had traveled with us,” explains the blond knight, his face twisted in guilt.

“Do you suspect that the recent attack on Midgar could be related to King Gast’s murder and your planned murder?” Asks Sephiroth after several minutes of tense silence has passed. It’s obvious his sister isn’t too happy with Cloud _or_ Zack at the moment and is still upset about being treated like a little fragile doll.

Aerith nods. “That has crossed my mind. Someone wants the royal family out of the way…which means if they are aware that you are my brother, they may try to attack you, too. I do not know if they want the throne…or just want to bring the kingdom to ruin. I really cannot say for certain.”

Sephiroth scowls at that, the image of a smirking, cold Shinra seared into his mind’s eye. The strong urge to run that bastard through with Masamune suddenly flares up in him. “I have a pretty good idea as to who is behind these attacks. Rufus Shinra from the White Dragon clan.”

“I have never heard of him, which is not all that surprising since Dragonkind are relatively unknown and keep to themselves,” admits Aerith with a sigh. Despite their serious discussion, the brunette’s eyes occasionally drift downwards, distracted by her half-brother’s unusual _attire_. The human girl has never seen any naked skin below his neck, so it’s quite scandalous to her eyes to see so much of his bare skin revealed to her innocent, albeit smitten eyes.

“The Black Dragons do not view him or his clan as friends, and if they are somehow all wiped out, I doubt any of us will miss them terribly,” begins Sephiroth, the images of recent events still vividly flashing in his mind, forcing him to scowl deeper. Shaking his head, he sighs, “I hesitate to tell you this, but Shinra wants something from me. What, I do not know. He is…a bit on the deranged side. Over a week ago, he was captured when he had attempted to sneak into our caves…and was held prisoner for a time. He would not talk, but…he did something to my mind, I think. I was hearing… _voices_ …and they tried to tempt me and almost drove me insane. I managed to fight them off, but not too soon after, Genesis, one of our own, betrayed us and freed Shinra. He nearly killed Vincent, too. I managed to kill Genesis and save my mate, but Shinra got away. I believe he staged an attack on Midgar to distract us so that they could strike.”

“That is horrible!” Gasps Aerith, her face reflecting a mix of emotions, mostly horror, outrage, and sympathy. Taking Sephiroth’s hand in her own, she squeezes it comfortingly. “I am relieved that all of you are all right, but I am very relieved that **you** are well, _most_ of all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sephiroth notices a peculiar expression on Cloud’s face that causes him to look at him fully. As soon as the blond man realizes he’s being scrutinized, he fixes his face back into his default look. “I agree with the Princess. I am happy that you are well, but…what now?”

“Who else knows Aerith is here?” Asks Sephiroth, ignoring the fact that his sister was still holding his hand like a sweetheart.

“Not many. Just you, me, Zack, and the decoy. No one else knows, not even the men that escorted us here. I trust them enough, but not with her life,” replies Cloud, his blue eyes briefly flickering down at the joined hands of the half-siblings.

Sephiroth remains unconvinced, not particularly liking the idea of the unknown person masquerading as his sister. For all he knows, this ‘decoy’ could be just another Genesis ready to strike, to betray. “Can we trust this…decoy?”

“Yes, we can. The decoy is my fiancé, Tifa Lockhart. She’s a…eh, _witch_ , you could say, and can shapeshift into most forms she comes in contact with. When she met the Princess, she was in a ‘borrowed’ form, you could say. She was careful and discreet, and…I swear to you both that she will not fail us,” answers Cloud, who then releases a deep breath as if he’s been holding it for ages.

Aerith and Sephiroth both exchange surprised looks before fixing their similar green gazes on the blond knight in question.

“How come you have never mentioned her before?” Slowly asks the human princess after releasing her brother’s hand.

The blond man shrugs. “You did not ask.”

“Fair enough,” Aerith sighs, deciding to drop the subject now since she is weary from their long travels and lacks the stamina to continue.

Sephiroth picks up on their fatigued states, which prompts him to rise up from the couch. “Rest here for as long as you need. I will send a servant in a few hours’ time with food and drink. The men will be seen to, as well. You both are safe here, so rest well. I will return tomorrow…but before I go, you must know that I have to inform my mates about this…predicament. I cannot promise you much at this moment, but I can promise that they will not wag their tongues about this. After all, there is a reason why most people do not know much, if anything, about dragons. Everything they hold sacred, hold precious, they guard closely. Because you are dear to me, that now includes you.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

 “I’m pregnant,” announces Yuffie as if it is the worst news known to both man and beast. Her food remains mostly untouched and instead she compulsively runs a finger over the rip of her glass over and over again without pause.

Long since finished with his meal, the silver-haired man fixes his gaze on the short female that is presently sitting across from him. They are both along in the dining hall save for a few servants popping in and out to clean, bring more dishes, or take away dishes. On his way to find his maters, Yuffie had sought him out and dragged him here for a one-on-one lunch presumably to avoid distractions at her house since she had claimed she needed to talk to him. Knowing whatever it is must be of significance, he had waited for over an hour for the dragoness to actually start talking. He had not known what to expect, but it had not been _this_.

“I take it you are not happy? You sound like a widow at her husband’s funeral.”

Yuffie sighs, bringing both hands to wrap around the glass. She eyes the crimson liquid in the glass as if it can possibly save her from all of her troubles. “It’s not that, really. It just…puts everything in perspective now. Everything feels more real now, more _final_.”

“I am not following…”

The dark-haired girl throws her arms up in frustration and exclaims, “Cid will die! I know he is mortal, have always known, but somehow, having his child inside of me…makes _that_ feel much more real. I know he will die in time, maybe sooner than I expect, maybe later, but it will happen. I always thought…we could have kids later, that we could be how we are now for a long time. But no, that cannot be. It’s a nice feeling to know that even after he’s passed, I’ll have a piece of him still with me. Gods and Goddesses, I don’t know why I picked a human! I’m an idiot!”

“I cannot pretend to know much on this matter, but what I do know, or at least, concerning my experience, is…we do not pick who we love or are attracted to. True, we can choose whether or not we actually act on our feelings, but we do not choose them,” states Sephiroth as if it is pure fact. When Yuffie continues to stare blankly at him, he sighs deeply and runs his fingers through his hair. Gaze averted, he grudgingly confesses, “I never…wanted to love a man, or even two men at once, but I do, and…it is irrational. It makes me feel things that conflict with the rational side of my mind. I cannot pretend to understand everything you are feeling, but I understand to an extent. Though Vincent is immortal…I almost lost him yesterday…and now everything feels so real… _too_ real…”

“Yeah,” murmurs Yuffie, the quietest she’s ever spoken in her life. The normally loud and outgoing girl feels both guilty and humbled by her friend’s words, especially since she had nearly lost her cousin, too. Tears spring into her eyes and her shoulders shake as she sobs, “H-he…could have k-killed Genesis easily…so easily, but stupid me got in the way…and t-that asshole used me as a h-hostage. I told him to f-forget about me, to k-kill him, but he wouldn’t leave m-me. Vince let…that f-fucker hurt him just to s-save me and he was willing to d-die…he almost died…because of me. I’m so sorry, Seph. Your l-lover nearly died because of me. It’s all my f-fault.”

“No, it is not. The only one that is to blame is that traitor, Genesis, and he is dead now. You and your cousins are still alive, and that is all that matters. You would have done the same for Vincent, as would I, so shred your guilt and prepare to be a mother.”

Yuffie laughs then sticks her tongue out at him. “Always the voice of reason, I see. You’re no fun sometimes…”

“Oh, I beg to differ…” Purrs Chaos as his powerful arms wind around the half-elf’s waist, resting his chin gently on Sephiroth’s shoulder without stabbing him with bone. The unique, masculine scent alone causes the silver-haired male to temporarily forget their conversation and pretty much everything else for a time.

“Beg all you like. You are certainly good at it,” snorts Sephiroth after he’s tumbled out of his brief haze. He half-smirks when he hears Yuffie not bothering to stifle her obnoxious, loud giggle fit.

Ignoring that, the honey-eyed dragon hums, “Guess who is _sulking_?”

“Is it Cid?” Jests Sephiroth after noticing the evil little grin on the female dragon’s face. He doesn’t really care why, yet he decides to humor his mate since he figures there’s a purpose behind this. The ex-knight leans back into the embrace and squirms a bit when he feels a hand sneak down to squeeze and knead his inner thigh. Even though the table is blocking the view of Chaos’ molesting hands from Yuffie’s sight, the silver-haired man still feels uncomfortable. If they had been alone, he may have spread his legs, but they were not alone. Having an audience doesn’t particularly strike his fancy, so he quickly grabs the molesting hand before it can roam any further.

“Try again,” rumbles Chaos, breaking his hands out of his mate’s hold to slip back between his legs in its quest to molest.

“Pretend I’m not here Seph,” says Yuffie, hiding a grin behind her hand as she watches them in awe.

The half-elf hisses, “I might murder him then.”

The female dragon cackles, “At least you’ll still have Vince…unless he finds out you’re the killer. I’ll just tell Vince that Cid did it, then he’ll kill Cid. It’ll be fun. A couple of wives bonding over the murders—I mean, deaths of their husbands!”

“I am not a wife!” Protests Sephiroth, half-distracted by a large hand palming his dick. Hearing the male behind him chuckle invokes his temper, causing him to jab Chaos really hard in the ribs with his elbow. The silver-haired man smiles in satisfaction when he hears the pained grunt and feels the temporary retreat of offending hands. He then notices Yuffie attempting to be inconspicuous by leaning to the side in an effort to chance a glance at what’s going on beneath the table. She snarls in pain when the ex-Knight kicks her in the shin, which successfully jerks her back into an upright position while screeching, “ **OW! THAT HURT! I’M PREGNANT, YA JERK!** ”

“I kicked your leg, not your stomach, woman,” snorts Sephiroth, who then laughs darkly, “You are damn lucky I am not wearing my _boots_ …”

The next thing the ex-Knight knows, everything is quickly swept off the table and then he’s shoved belly down on the table. Grunting, he grabs each side of the table with every intention of rising, even goes so far as to rise halfway but is shoved back down by a hand on the back of his neck. Growling, he struggles wildly to break free until a hand smacks him hard on his ass. He freezes at the unanticipated hit, but more so at the even more unexpected pleasure such a blow brings him. Blinking slowly and breathing shallowly, he glances around the room and notices that Yuffie is no longer present, or so it appears. Hot breath rolls against his neck and then at his sensitive, pointed ear. A voice laden with arousal, huskily whispers, “ _And I am damn lucky we barely wear any clothes_ …”

“Chaos, what are you…?”

“Hush, love, I am not angry…just… _want_ you…”

Sephiroth sighs, “All right then, get off of me and let us go…”

“No…I will have you here, like a feast…in this dining hall,” rumbles the raven-haired warrior as he works quickly to unclasp the strip of leather between his thighs that keeps his genitals tucked in before doing the same to Sephiroth. Pushing the leather loin cloth aside to give him better access to his mate’s ass, he next pours a fair amount of oil in the crack before he spreads the half-elf’s legs wider apart. With a grunt, he positions his leaking erection just right before breeching Sephiroth’s tight, unprepared orifice, every thrust burying another inch or two until he’s completely sheathed inside of his scorching, spasming ass.  

“ _You always seem to come prepared_ ,” hisses Sephiroth, torn between the pain and pleasure of the abrupt, unprepared penetration. This isn’t the first time they’ve had unprepared sex since there are those times when they’re both too impatient for preparation and foreplay. Despite the rough, unprepared entry, Sephiroth always heals quickly and Chaos is always careful enough not to cause him unnecessary pain or serious injury.

The chamber is filled with the harsh, strained breathing of the aroused men as they both wait for Sephiroth to adjust to the big cock presently splitting him wide open. It doesn’t take long until the ex-Knight is pushing back against the larger body pinning him to the table, eager for more. His hands grip the edge of the table, bracing himself for what he knows is sure to come. Within moments, his moans and cries echo in the chamber as Chaos begins assaulting his willing body without much restraint, if any. Hands hold the half-elf in place by the hips, bent over the table as he mounts him like an animal in rut. The pace is fast and brutal, both males thrashing wildly against each other as if competing to see who will come first.

The poor table strains underneath the heavy males, creaking loudly with every fast, hard slap of flesh until it has had enough. With a loud crack, the table breaks, forcing both men to tumble over it and down onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. Unfortunately for Sephiroth, his body is what breaks the dragon’s fall when they both plummet to the ground. Grunting and huffing, the half-elf attempts to shove Chaos off of him only to be forced up by his hips. Legs forced apart, he throws his head back and curses loudly when the older male slams back inside his abused, loosened passage.

“Well, it is good to know that I am on top, no matter what,” remarks Chaos, fucking Sephiroth with earnest despite his amusement at their little tumble.

“Shut up and fuck me, you bastard,” snarls the silver-haired ex-knight, his body eagerly bucking back against the mind-blowing, ruthless body nailing him into the cold, rough ground. Voice now hoarse from screaming in ecstasy, the wanton half-elf scratches at the stone with his nails, wishing it was Chaos’ broad back he was raking them across.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Do you have any issues with what I have just told you?” Asks Sephiroth, running the tips of fingers over the planes of Chaos’ hard, sculpted body. For the moment, he’s comfortable lying half on top of the larger male. The ground isn’t especially comfortable, and anyone can walk in on them, but for now, he’s too tired to move, not to mention unforgivably sore.

As long as that pretty little princess keeps her hands off you, I have no problem with her hiding out here,” yawns Chaos, who appears unconcerned by the serious news relayed to him by his lover.

“It isn’t even like that…”

“If you say so.”

Sephiroth barks, “I do say so, and know so.”

“You are unbearably cute when your feathers are ruffled, love,” laughs Chaos, running a hand down over the silky expanse of the ex-knight’s back until he reaches the round, muscular swell that is Sephiroth’s rear. He cups and kneads a fleshy cheek, rubbing it as if in apology for his previous rough treatment of it.

“You never told me who was sulking,” mumbles Sephiroth as he sits up, his back cricking when he arches it. The need to clean himself properly and soak his sore muscles arises from the state he is presently in. The smell of sex and food still lingers in the air, making him heavily sigh, “I need to bathe…”

Chaos answers, “Vincent, of course,” then sits up, too, and crawls behind the slighter male. He gingerly massages the muscles in the half-elf’s lower back, pressing deep whenever the muscles feel much too tense.

“Why? What is wrong now?” Asks Sephiroth, who is tempted to sag back against the wonderful hands doing amazing things to his poor, aching body. Hissing, his body jerks involuntarily whenever the dark-haired man presses his fingers in a bit too deeply, but doesn’t dare complain since he knows it is necessary. Though Chaos can be rough and insatiable at times, the dragon often makes up for it with his pampering aftercare.

“Nothing.”

Sephiroth looks over his shoulder, arching a fine silver eyebrow and doing his best to reel in his impatience. If he snaps at the larger male, he might stop his ministrations and there’s no way Sephiroth is going to risk such a thing. “Care to elaborate?”

“Nothing is wrong. I just know, can feel…whenever he is brooding. I think he fears being happy, but more so losing said happiness. He has not been happy in a long time, Sephiroth. He is afraid nearly everything will be taken from him again. He lost his mother, his lover, and his child. Besides me, those are all the things that he cared for very deeply. You have no idea how much he longed being a father…”

The ex-Knight’s ears perk at that, making him smirk in victory. “Hah, so he does want a brat. I knew it. What about you? You feel the same way he does regarding offspring?”

Chaos leans forward, resting his chin lightly on Sephiroth’s shoulder without pausing from his work. “You have probably noticed already, but my twin and I are like night and day though in a sense, we are the same person. It is like we are the same coin, each side different. My brother…always wanted to share a life with his mate…to have a family besides his mother and brother while I, on the other hand…just want to have fun. I never cared for children, anyway. Noisy and messy, they are…”

Sephiroth smirks evilly. “Nice to know. If I ever have a brat, you will be the first person I have in mind to play _nanny_.”

“That is not funny,” growls Chaos, grimacing at the thought of having to change diapers and chase after a wild, spoiled brat of a child. With a quick shake of his head, he scoffs, “I will do no such thing.”

“Oh, trust me…if you want sex, you will do whatever I wish.”

“You really are no better than a woman,” complains the dark-haired man, his arms winding around the half-elf’s narrow waist to pull him closer. Without looking at him, the younger man knows the dragon is pouting like an overgrown child.

The silver-haired man snorts, “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“So be a man then,” rumbles the golden-eyed male, trailing his hand down over Sephiroth’s abdominals, its destination pretty obvious by now. Before said hand can make contact with the smaller male’s groin, Sephiroth wriggles out of Chaos’ arms and jumps to his feet like a cat. Turning around, he slowly waggles his finger at the older man as he carefully tucks his genitals in before refastening the loin cloth so that he is now decent.

“Nice try, Chaos,” remarks the silver-haired ex-Soldier, smirking though there is a glazed look to his vibrant eyes. “Obviously you want me to check on your brother, so I will… _after_ I have a bath.”

Chaos says nothing as he watches his mate stride away with a barely noticeable limp to his step. The dragon lord shakes his head and then smiles to himself as if he is privy to a secret only he knows.

  

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Once Sephiroth enters their personal bathing chambers, he doesn’t notice the younger twin brother until he turns towards the pool after undressing. Vincent’s back is to him, pressed against the pool wall with his head lolled to the side. Alarmed, the half-elf hastily rushes over to him and drops down onto his knees. Relief immediately surges through him once he catches sight of the gentle rise and fall of the older man’s chest. Laughing shakily, he slowly slips into the water and turns towards the sleeping man. Like a lost child who has just found his mother, he clings to him and presses his ear against the dark-haired man’s chest, listening avidly to the steady, soothing sound of the dragon’s heartbeat. It is further proof that his lover is still alive and well. He feels incredibly silly, but grateful nonetheless that Vincent isn’t injured or dead. After all, he had nearly lost him barely a day ago…

“Hm…Sephiroth? What…is wrong?”

The silver-haired man doesn’t answer; he just tightens his arms around the slightly larger body as he continues to listen to the strong heart beating with life. The ex-knight’s eyes slide shut and he nearly melts on the spot when he feels long fingers threading through his hair, fingertips gently rubbing little circles into his scalp. He doesn’t want to talk, to ruin this comfort, but he knows the older male deserves to know the situation at hand.

“I have to tell you a few things, but first…I want you to know that I was not avoiding you or your brother today. I slipped away while you slept because I needed to be alone to think, to process everything that has happened so far. Well, as alone as one can be with Squall and Seifer hanging around,” Sephiroth begins, opening his eyes to stare at nothing in particular. There are several scars in his eye range, but he chooses not to stare at them since he knows Vincent doesn’t enjoy that sort of attention even if Sephiroth himself doesn’t mind the scars marring his body.

“That is understandable,” comments Vincent, looking down at the strong man clinging to him like a child and secretly enjoying being needed like this.

“My sister is here…she needs to be hidden for a time and no one besides us can know that she is here. Our father was murdered, probably by Shinra’s cohorts, or some other foolish usurper…and Aerith is the next target. Cloud’s woman has assumed her form and is pretending to be Aerith in her stead. I do not know how long she has to stay here, but I want her to be protected here since she is not safe in Midgar. My being here is already endangering your people—“

Vincent is quick to cup a hand over Sephiroth’s mouth, successfully interrupting him. “—Don’t. Don’t blame yourself, Sephiroth. It is not your fault there are despicable beings out there with intent to use you. While it is true they desire you for some dreadful purpose, they have always hated us, that is no secret. Whether you are here or not, they will attempt to strike us again. If they wish to burn the world, like Shinra and Genesis both claim, it stands to reason that they will want to wipe us all out, too. I know what you are thinking…you are staying _here_. I do not care if the whole world wages war on us, you will stay with us. Your sister is welcome, too…provided that she behaves herself, of course.”

“Your brother said something similar about Aerith, too. Is there something I should know? She is a bit touchy…but…” Sephiroth laughs in mirth after pulling the dragon lord’s hand away from his mouth. It is a strange feeling to feel like crying and laughing at the same time, to which he didn’t even realize he was doing until tanned fingers wiped away his tears.

“Just know that you are loved,” murmurs Vincent, cupping the younger male’s face in his hands to draw him closer. After pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead, he then snakes his arms around the pale hybrid in an embrace tight enough to comfort him, yet loose enough not to smother him.

“As are you,” says the half-elf, burying half of his face against the scarred flesh of his lover’s chest. The heartbeat thrums in his ear, causing him to sigh, “Now stop brooding already and be happy...”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

_A few hours later…_

“Hey Boss, Chief…sorry to disturb you, but this is urgent,” says Seifer as he crouches down at the edge of the pool, amusement on his face to find both males fast asleep and tangled together.

Sephiroth blinks his eyes open a few times, not fully aware of where he is at the moment. It takes him less than a minute to realize he’s still in the bathing chambers with Vincent, and they must have fallen asleep. Well, he must have, anyway, but looking at the dragon lord now, it’s obvious he must have fallen asleep, too.

“What is urgent?” Croaks Vincent, his voice rough and uneven from being asleep. Though he is usually an early riser, he is generally a bit on the grumpy side whenever someone wakes him up before his body means to.

Seifer’s face is wiped of the usual cocky expression he wears; instead it is replaced by an expression he only wears whenever the situation is serious. It’s a look Sephiroth has only seen a couple of times now, but enough to know that something is up, especially since their guards never intrude unless absolutely necessary. “Squall found an intruder and brought whoever it is to the dungeons. We’re not yet sure if it’s friend or foe, but we locked them up just the same. Angeal is already on his way to deliver the news to Chaos, so you don’t have to worry about informing him. I’ll step out now and let you both get dried and dressed.” And with that, Seifer nods to both lords before stepping out of the chamber to give them both their privacy.

“Very well. Thank you, Seifer,” says Vincent with a slow nod as he reluctantly untangles himself from the comfort of his lover’s embrace. He steps out of the pool and grabs a couple of towels. Tossing one to Sephiroth, he quickly dries himself off before slipping on his usual loin cloth. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches his naked mate drying off and then dressing. He has to tear his crimson eyes away when the warm, almost searing hot feeling in his chest gets to be too much. The raven-haired man clenches a hand to his chest as if afraid his heart will burst out through it if he doesn’t.

Satisfied that he was decent enough, the half-elf turns to Vincent when he notices that the other man seems a bit _off_. Approaching him slowly, he reaches over and touches him on the shoulder. “Everything…all right?”

“Yes, let’s go,” answers the crimson-eyed man, dropping his hand from his chest like it is a dead thing. He turns away and strides towards the door, exiting it with Sephiroth following closely behind him. Once they’re outside, the half-elf speeds up his strides so that he’s walking beside the older man now.

Seifer pushes off from the wall and follows several paces behind them, his face a grim reminder of just where they’re going and who they might end up seeing. Though it is most likely not Shinra or Shinra senior waiting for them, it could be someone affiliated with the white dragons, or perhaps someone with ill intentions. After all, could it really be pure coincidence that someone shows up several hours _after_ Aerith has arrived? Whatever the case may be, neither man looks forward to uncovering the truth; however, they both long to know it nevertheless.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Once both Vincent and Sephiroth have entered the dungeons, they easily spot Squall and a couple other guards, standing guard in front of one of the cells. The brunette turns his face towards them slowly, nodding and then waving them over. For whatever reason, for Sephiroth, every step closer to that cell feels like he has lead in his feet. Even though there are no voices screaming or clawing at his mind, something else is calling to him, ever so gently, like a caress against his face. He hates it because it is unknown and confusing; he relishes it because it is gentle and comforting. What is this strange feeling and why is he suddenly feeling it? Whatever it is, it’s not in his head this time, or so he believes. This time, it feels like it’s _inside_ of his chest, not his head, pouring out to coat every single inch of his skin until he’s covered with whatever this foreign feeling is.

“Your Grace, she wishes to speak with you,” quietly speaks Squall, stepping off to the side to give his superiors room.

“ _Sh_ e? _”_ Echoes Sephiroth, glancing briefly at Squall as he steps in front of the cell, keeping at least five feet of space in-between him and the cloaked woman standing on the other side. When he peers closer, he spots a lock of long cinnamon brown hair peeking out from under her hood. Even from this distance, he can smell her scent and it smells…oddly familiar. Like the smell of an old friend someone hasn’t seen in many a year. Feeling bothered by this, he narrows his eyes, taking a few reluctant steps forward, and slowly inquires, “ **Who** …are _you_?”

The woman sighs gently, as if relieved by something. Her slender hands reaching up to her hood before pulling it down to reveal her pale face, pointy, elven ears, and big, almond shaped emerald green eyes. In an instant, her face yanks at all of the half-elf’s memories, or more like, his dreams of a woman calling out to him. The face in his dreams always became blurry, or more like, it faded since he always forgot what she looked like when he woke. Voice brimming full of emotion, the elven woman answers, “Sephiroth…I’m your mother.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~


	12. Convolution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. There is angst, and an incest warning. Nothing really graphic for this chapter, though. I hope you enjoy.

“I have no mother,” snarls Sephiroth coldly, voice as sharp as a fine blade emulated by even sharper, apathetic green eyes. He doesn’t know who this woman is or what exactly her game is, but he doesn’t believe her. For all he knows, she is probably an insurgent sent by Shinra himself to mess with his head or attempt other unsavory, underhanded actions. Although he greatly enjoys having sex with both his mates, he also enjoys the other non-sexual moments spent with them, too. The half-elf feels more alive now than he ever has his entire life; not to mention it also seems like to him that he’s learned more from his time with the black dragons than with the humans of Midgar. The bottom line is, he’s pissed that she had ruined a very relaxing, intimate experience with Vincent. After all the shit they’ve been through recently, he’s none too happy about this unwanted disturbance. With that in mind, he’s eager to question her just to be done with it as soon as possible.

Melancholic, verdant-green eyes gaze up at the half-elf, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying, no doubt. She sweeps her cinnamon brown bangs out of her fair face and is visibly annoyed when some stubborn strands decide to stick to the wetness on her cheeks. Turning her face away, she hastily pushes the hair none too gently away from her face. The female elf sighs deeply, her slender body shuddering from some deep rooted emotion lingering within her. When she feels composed enough, she looks back up at the ex-Knight Commander. Once more, she repeats, “I am your mother.”

Staring down stoically at the frustrating she-elf, he deadpans, “For an elf, you are surprisingly quite _deaf_.”

“It is true, Sephiroth. I am your mother…Lucrecia of the Crescent clan. I came here to help you—“

Like fire to kindling, that name sparks familiarity in him, but not the good kind. Narrowing his malachite eyes, he leans closer as he grips one of the cold, rough bars in hand. “—You had better not be the same bitch—“

“—The one and the same,” quietly interrupts Vincent while he pulls his lover back away from the bars so that he’s at a safe distance from the female elf. His tan face is a blank, cold mask of apathy as he coolly regards the woman he had once loved over five-hundred years ago. “I do not know why you have come, but you are not welcome here…”

“I have come for my son. He is not safe here. He was safe in Midgar…until he _left_ ,” explains Lucrecia. Her green-eyed gaze keeps flickering back and forth between her son and ex-lover. The brunette’s face is twisted in a mix of feelings, mostly being guilt, determination, and despair. “Please, Sephiroth, you don’t understand! You are not safe here! She will find you, and she will take you. I cannot allow that to happen!”

The raven-haired dragon remains unmoved by her plight as he says, “Sephiroth is here of his own volition. He made his choice, and now he will remain here for as long as he so chooses.”

“Stop talking about me like I am not even here,” growls the half-elf, his words obviously directed at his mate and so-called mother. Eyes narrowed, he shoots the female elf a withering glare while he grinds out, “You have a lot of nerve coming back here…reopening barely stitched wounds and causing further distress. After what you did to my mate, you should spend the rest of your days rotting away for eternity with no reprieve…”

“ _Mate_? What do you mean mate?” Slowly asks Lucrecia, color draining from her face making her look like she has seen an apparition. Her hands slowly drop from the bars she was previously gripping as she glances at each male, not seeming the least bit concerned by the fact that her own son has pretty much damned her.

“He’s referring to my brother and I, you godsdamned _cuntjob_ ,” snaps Chaos as he storms into the dungeons, just having caught the last few things being said. His golden eyes are blazing as he glares at the female elf with unrestrained, hateful fury. Stalking forward like an enraged demon freshly out of hell, he snarls when Vincent seizes him by the forearm to jerk him back away from the imprisoned Lucrecia. He harshly rips his arm away from his brother and turns on his heel, fingers flexing with their claws dripping copious amounts of what looks to be venom, or perhaps acid that sizzles when it hits the ground. “You dare protect that _whore_? After everything she has done? Are you that much of a fool, brother?”

Sephiroth hastily steps between the brothers to prevent a fight from breaking out since it looks like the agitated twins are about to brawl on the spot. Looking unimpressed, he lays a hand flat on each chest, glancing between them with a level, critical glare that promises a swift, brutal punishment should they dare think to cross him. Voice firm, yet placating, he cajoles, “Calm down, _both_ of you, or I will take you both down myself. She is not worth coming to blows over. If you cannot handle it, then leave. I will deal with her myself if you cannot control yourselves.”

Lucrecia doesn’t seem to notice Chaos or Vincent at all while she continues to stare in shock at her son. Her wide green eyes slowly drift back over to the twins to stare accusingly at them. Voice small, yet sharper than a claw, she hesitantly asks, “Mate…? You mean…you have both defiled my son?”

“If by defiled, you mean fucked his sweet ass, then yes… _we_ both have,” sneers Chaos, glaring hatefully at the female from over Sephiroth and Vincent’s shoulders. The only reason he remains in place is due to the firm, long-fingered pale hand still splayed against his chest.

“You’re lying,” fiercely hisses Lucrecia, not wanting to believe for it for a second.

Chaos holds the female elf’s gaze for a few moments before saying, “Fine. You want proof…here you go,” and then grabbing the half-elf by his hips, jerking him close and hard against his larger body. He slides a hand up under Sephiroth’s loin cloth to grope his backside while he bends him backwards, giving Lucrecia a generous view of him dominating her son’s compliant mouth while he grinds his hips against the ex-Knight’s like an animal in rut. Sephiroth moans into the breathless, fervent kiss, growing pliant in Chaos’ arms in spite of the horrified green eyes watching them. His arms cling tightly to the dragon’s broad back, hands digging welts into whatever bit of skin they could drag against. It wasn’t too long ago when Sephiroth had felt embarrassed at being walked in on by Vincent whenever he and Chaos were in the middle of something sexual. Now, he feels strangely invigorated _and_ turned on by knowing someone is there _watching_ them.

Vincent quickly steps aside to avoid blocking the display of the pair from his ex-lover’s sight. With dilated pupils, he watches them for a minute before he intervenes, grabbing a fistful of Sephiroth’s hair to tear the younger male’s face away from his brother’s. Leaning over, the crimson-eyed dragon crushes his lips to Sephiroth’s, forcing his mouth open so that their swirling tongues can mate, tasting everything within reach. Exhibiting such a shameless, sexual display in front of others is completely unlike him; however, he doesn’t seem to care since the urge to claim what is his is stronger at the moment than anything else.

“What are you doing?! Stop that! Don’t you understand you’re molesting your own _son_! Your own _nephew_!” Screams Lucrecia as she bangs hysterically at the bars in distress, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

Vincent breaks the kiss, giving one last suck to his mate’s bottom lip before he whirls around and stalks towards the female elf, his metallic crimson eyes burning brightly at her audacity. Bottomless rage married with agony contorts his features as he glares at her. “ _My_ child died inside of you long ago. You told me the child was dead…you even grieved for it, or was that a lie? Was everything a lie?”

“I believed him to be dead. That grief was very real on my part. You were such a good, kind man…that it wasn’t until I believed I had miscarried that I saw the error of what I was doing. It tore me apart to see you grieve, to know that I had almost…given your son, _our_ son, to that demon. I had never wanted a child…until I believed I had lost him. And you, I drifted away from you because I could not bear to look at you, to know what I had almost done. No child of yours deserved such a cruel fate. I couldn’t…risk getting pregnant by you again. So…I went to your father because I did not love him. I still had a job to do, after all. I didn’t realize until _after_ …that horrible night…that I was still pregnant with Sephiroth,” confesses the emotional female elf, her eyes closed and forehead pressed against one of the rough, cold bars. She sounded weary and old, which is a stark contrast to her youthful visage and body.

The silver-haired man stares unblinkingly at the woman, his body suddenly feeling like it weighs twice its weight as an ice cold, revolting sensation creeps spiderlike through every part of his being. If Chaos wasn’t standing beside him with an arm wrapped loosely around his waist, supporting him, he probably would have stumbled over. Leaning against Chaos more fully, his green eyes harden considerably, not quite believing what he’s just been told. “Gast is my blood father, or so I grew up believing. You…are telling me that this is a lie? Vincent is my real father?”

Chaos and Vincent are both deathly silent, each dragon’s skin looking several shades paler than normal. Two pairs of metallic-colored eyes are wide and unfocused, looking straight through the brunette woman as if she’d not even there. Both twins mirror shock and disbelief, which now has temporarily replaced their previous feelings of anger and hatred. 

“Yes, Vincent is your father as well as Gast… _and_ Hojo. You have three fathers, Sephiroth,” divulges Lucrecia, who has the decency to look guilty as she averts her eyes. “And…two mothers.”

Sephiroth narrows his eyes as he continues to stare coldly at the female elf claiming to be his birth mother. “How…is that even possible?”

“By way of ancient magic, Sephiroth. It is an old spell most do not know about. Most of the old ones that do know of it, have forgotten it,” patiently explains the green-eyed woman.

“If that is true, why use such an old spell? What do you hope to gain from such an atrocious thing?” Inquires the ex-Knight, still not quite certain whether he should believe her or not. For all he knows, the woman could be a daft elf hit too many times in the head, or suffering from the side effects of a spell gone wrong.

“It is not I that hopes to gain anything. It is Jenova, the demon who…is your _other_ mother. She hopes to gain a vessel, a new body suitable for her immense, destructive power. Right now, she has taken another body host until she can take yours from you. I did…what I did…to protect my people, my clan. I know it may not seem like a very good reason to you, but I was desperate…to protect the ones I love. If I had not…done as she had ordered, she would have…done horrible things to them. Thinking about it now, she is probably going to destroy them all in the end. You see, complete domination of all races and life in this world and the next, is her goal. Her way of domination…is to use people as puppets…and have them destroy everyone and everything. For whatever reasons, Jenova wants to watch the world burn and make the survivors kneel at her feet,” reveals Lucrecia, her hands dropping down from the bars. Shame and regret radiates so much through her being that for a moment, Sephiroth has to avert his gaze from such a pitiful sight.

Still skeptical, the half-elf questions, “How do you know this demon is capable of such destruction? She could be lying…”

Lucrecia’s face contorts into one of pure revulsion as she answers, “I have seen it first-hand. Like you, I did not believe her to be anything but a common demon. I am still not even certain if she is in fact, a true demon. All I do know is…she caused a score of villages to suffer tremendously before dying horrible, gruesome deaths. I tried to help them, but…nothing I did helped. They all died…and I was forced to watch. She called it…a demonstration of what is to come.”

Vincent chooses that moment to break his silence by asking, “Why the need for _multiple_ parents? Why did you choose me?”

“That is what she asked for, Vincent. She…wanted one mortal father, and one immortal. Why, I do not know. It is just what she demanded. As for why I chose you…I told you, I liked you. I may not have loved you the way you loved me, but I did care, still do. At first, I did not know you wanted a family that badly and I did not know I wanted one, either…until it was too late. I know I can never truly atone for the pain you suffered, and the mother you lost, but I will never stop trying to. I do not expect forgiveness from you, or your brother,” Lucrecia clarified, her voice strong and genuine; however, she could not bring herself to meet his eyes. It is clear as day that five-hundred-year-old anguish and remorse still burns through her to the core and probably always will for the rest of her days.

Crimson eyes that had once regarded her with passion, stared at her, hardened and unsympathetic like a man watching the execution of his child’s murderer. Time and pain had gradually eased the slightly younger dragon twin into a stoic, unsmiling man. His voice low, but deep, growls, “If all that is true, as you so claim, why did you not tell me I had a son?”

The female elf sighs, “To protect him from Jenova. Sephiroth was safe in Midgar, with Gast and Ifalna. As long as he remained disguised as a human, he would be protected by our spells. Ifalna and I, along with some other magic users, cast powerful spells to keep him hidden and safe. Jenova did not know where he was, or if he even existed…until the glamour broke when he came here. I am sorry…to you, but most of all to Sephiroth. It…was the only way.”

Vincent then turns his back to her, his eyes burning holes through the stone as he stares at nothing and no one in particular for a few moments. Without a word, he sweeps out of the dungeons, his dark hair whipping behind him as he hastily departs. Lucrecia watches him leave with sad, defeated eyes, shaking her slowly and sighing again.

Sephiroth attempts to follow, but is halted by Chaos, who tightens his arm around the younger male’s waist. The golden-eyed dragon shakes his head, his eyes soft as he regards his mate. His amber eyes harden and lips form a tight, displeased line when he hears the female elf’s voice echoing throughout the chamber once more.

The female cleric hesitantly asks, “Tell me…have you heard voices calling to you, yet? If you have, that…is most likely Jenova trying to make you submit to her. She cannot take you by force, but she can make you feel great pain and anguish…”

“This no longer concerns you,” drawls out the half-elf, his patience already worn quite thin by this woman and recent events. As angry, confused, and distraught as he feels at the moment, he is far more worried about Vincent. Like a dog waiting eagerly for its master, he shows his concern by continuing to stare in the direction the absent man has recently left.

Chaos exhales deeply. “Fine…go after him. You are the Vincent Whisperer, after all…”

Nodding curtly, Sephiroth fights a smirk as he untangles himself from the dragon’s arm and strides towards the exit. He pauses long enough to look over his shoulder and say, “Chaos…do not hurt her. I know you are angry, you have a right to be…but for me, just…leave her be…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The first place Sephiroth checks is the Tombs, but he ends up coming up empty handed. The next place he checks is their personal chambers even though part of him already knows the crimson-eyed lord will not be there. From past experience, he knows Vincent only seeks solitude in a few places, which leaves him only one more place to look, unless there is somewhere else secret he has yet to discover. With this in mind, he immediately finds the usual exit he takes whenever he wants to go outside to see Mako in the meadow. He figures in the amount of time that he’s searched for Vincent, which is probably well over an hour, he’s given the older male enough time alone.

Several meters away, he spots Vincent, his back facing him, sitting in the grass with Mako’s head in his lap as he languidly strokes the long, silky black mane. The lazy horse is lying in the grass, obviously basking in the attention that he’s receiving from the dragon lord. He whinnies occasionally whenever the hand has stopped petting him, only going silent whenever it has resumed pampering him. Though his smile is faint as he approaches them, the half-elf feels more affection at the sight of his lover and horse bonding than he will ever dare admit.

Crouching down, Sephiroth swats Mako on the rear as he affectionately barks, “Get out of here, you spoiled ass. I am the only one he is supposed to be stroking, after all…” And watches in mild amusement as the horse reluctantly rises up and gallops off after nipping at Sephiroth’s hair. The ex-Knight shakes his head while he watches his steed speeding away to Gods knows where. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices that Vincent isn’t looking at him, yet there’s a ghost of a smile on his tanned face. A little bit of his anxiety fades from seeing this as he slowly sits down in the grass, maneuvering his body until he’s in the most comfortable position that he can be since he may be out here for awhile. During his search for the older man, he had had some time to think over Lucrecia’s words and sort through some of his own feelings and thoughts. For now, he is only here for Vincent and will wait for as long as it takes for the other to speak.

Catching movement far off to the left, Sephiroth spots both Seifer and Squall outside, both far enough away to avoid eavesdropping, yet close enough to be of use if they are needed. Another flurry of movement ensnares his attention and he huffs when it realizes Cait Sith is with them. Seifer appears comfortable enough sitting on the grass, arm propped on a bent leg whereas Squall looks stiff and uncomfortable standing with his arms crossed as the cat yammers on about something, occasionally bouncing around in his obvious excitement. Sephiroth can barely hear any words from this distance, but he can tell that the blond is amused, the brunette is annoyed, and the cat is, well, he’s a cat…thing, or whatever. He’s thankfully had a rather limited amount of contact with Reeve’s toy so far. It’s not that he dislikes Cait Sith or anything. He barely knows him, yet there’s something about the cat that…unsettles him, for whatever reason that’s unknown even to himself. Could be because the cat isn’t truly a living creature since he is a toy filled with magic and controlled by Reeve, who claims Cait has his own distinctive personality. Something about dolls has never sat well with the half-elf. Gaia, even the sight of corpses staring lifelessly into nothing is enough to unnerve the famed ex-Knight Commander. Death isn’t a new concept to him and he’s seen and delivered it personally countless times…but to see those dead eyes…staring, staring at nothing, is something that has always unnerved him. Perhaps that is why Cait Sith bothers him to some extent. The cat has such life, is brimming full with so much life in a false body whereas all these real bodies are decaying, being filled with the nothingness, the change that is death. It seems wrong, somehow.

For a moment, Sephiroth recalls Vincent nearly dying and imagines how those searing, metallic blood red eyes would have looked staring sightlessly into the abyss while his body is rigid and unmoving, pallid from death. Bile rises up his throat and he quickly swallows it down, wincing at the sour, unpleasant taste of it. It reminds him then of the first time he had ever taken a life back when he was barely an adolescent. He remembers sightless dark eyes staring up at him and so much blood, too much blood, which he tasted on his lips, making bile rise up into his mouth. The half-elf had fallen to his knees and had thrown up the entire contents of his stomach, which at the time, had been a few bites of bread and cheese.  Every life taken after the first had become easier and easier to bear, to move on from; however, the image of dead, dark eyes never left him nor the memory of the coppery, sour taste in his mouth.

“I am sorry,” murmurs Vincent after a long stretch of time has passed on by them. He keeps his gaze on anything that isn’t the younger male that’s sitting beside him, with barely a foot of space between them. If he notices the surprise on the half-elf’s face, he does not show it.

Sephiroth scoffs, “You have done nothing wrong, idiot. Why are you even apologizing? Nothing that woman said or did is your fault, so come off of it. For all we know, she could be lying still…”

“She was not lying,” sighs the raven-haired lord with a shake of his head. He falls back, his back hitting the grass and his crimson eyes staring up at the clouds overhead, slowly rolling by in the sky. “I can feel it, deep in my bones. I do not know how much is truth, but I do know that…you are my son. My instincts…felt it, when you first arrived. Chaos felt it, too. We were both so attracted to you, but we did not know the exact reason why…until now. My brother…defiled his nephew, and I, my son...”

“Well…his nephew… _and_ your son…enjoyed it, and does not regret it,” spits Sephiroth, dropping back onto the ground to also gaze up at the beautiful, mostly clear sky. Frowning, he then asks, “Do you regret it now? Like I have told you before, if you do not want a physical relationship, I will respect that decision…from you and Chaos both…”

Vincent sits up and roughly drags a hand through his unruly locks in frustration, nearly tearing some of his hair out in the process. He calms somewhat, his hand stilling when he feels Sephiroth’s hand cover his own. Shaking his head slowly, he divulges, “No, and that is the problem. I know you are my son…and it should bother me, but it does not. What truly bothers me is…weeks ago, when we first met, had I known you were my son then...I probably would have wanted you still. It is… _sickening_ to know that even then, as your father, I might have still wanted you in sinful ways. A father should not lust, should not love his own son in such a way. For that, I am sorry…”

“I never had a father, or a mother, for the matter. I grew up knowing Gast was my father, but he never truly acted like one towards me. I was always alone, always an orphan. I do not even know what it feels like to have a parent, nor do I care to know anymore. I am a grown man now. I do not need a mother, or a father. All I feel I need right now is you and Chaos, just the way we have been, and I hope it continues to be that way. You may be my father by blood, but to me, you are more than that. I should care that you are my father, but I don’t. If this is a problem for you, I will wait as long as it takes for you to sort through it. If you cannot bring yourself to touch me again, I will not blame you. I cannot lie, I will be disappointed and I will miss your touch, but in the end, it is up to you,” speaks Sephiroth, sounding resigned as his hand drops away from the other man’s hand. He is feeling various conflicting things right now and doesn’t even know if he’s expressed himself just right. Feelings, emotions, or whatever people deign to call them, have never been his strong suit, but since arriving in his new home, he’s been learning to express and deal with them better. It helps in a sense that Vincent seems to be in the same boat as him regarding this. Not to mention, Chaos is more confident and comfortable when talking and expressing himself. A part of him envies the larger twin’s ability to be so open and inviting, seemingly without effort on the dragon’s part.

“I will keep that in mind.” Is all Vincent says before he lapses back into a contemplative silence, his back once more becoming one with the grass. Though he is far from happy considering Lucrecia’s sudden arrival and the news she has revealed, he appears calmer now after his talk with Sephiroth. Something about the younger man always seems to calm him down and make him feel better even if Sephiroth never utters a single word to him. It would seem that his mere presence is enough to pacify the raging beast and bring harmony to his troubled, fractured core. Vincent knows he is far from all right at this moment, but somehow knows in time, everything will be right again. As fucked up as things are, the more selfish part of himself doesn’t want to let go of his son, his lover, whatever Sephiroth really is to him. As long as he has his brother and son/lover on his side, he feels everything will work out in the end, even if there is the distressing possibility that he may never be able to bring himself to touch Sephiroth in a non-platonic manner again.

After what feels like several hours, Sephiroth decides to engage the older man once more when the silence has become too unbearable for him. There are many burning questions in his mind, some he knows he won’t get an answer to right away, or ever, and some more pressing ones that he knows cannot wait and needs an answer to. Selfishly, all he cares about at the moment is finding out what their rocky relationship will be from now on. It frustrates him that after all the time of working through Vincent’s personal issues, of finally ironing out their relationship, it’s now become uncertain once again. Inside his own head, he berates himself for being so selfish, so damned impatient when the older man is still reeling from the shock and pain of knowing that he actually has a son, and has fucked his own son. Father is just a word to him and means nothing really, but to Vincent, it means the world. The man had always wanted a child, a family of his own, and had his heart broken from losing his own unborn child, his mother, and his would-be mate. For all Sephiroth knows, Vincent might back away again, keep his distance, and become or try to become, the father he’d always longed to be.

While Sephiroth truly means everything he has said to Vincent not too long ago, he doesn’t know if he can live up to it. Even the mere thought of Vincent never touching him again like a lover, causes an uncomfortable, agonizing tightness in his chest. Is this what it feels to have heartbreak? He doesn’t rightly know, but instinctively feels that this is exactly what is happening. It’s highly possible that the moments he’s shared with Vincent, like the marathon sex, the teasing, the nights spent curled together, and the time spent napping together in the bathing chambers, will be the last. He knows it’s not all about sex, since there’s more to their relationship than that. A lot of the intimacy shared between them is not of a father and a son, but of lovers, of friends. He knows it’s probable that Vincent might distance himself until there’s nothing between them but scarce sightings and exchanged, strained words. He might withdraw from both Chaos and Sephiroth, moving into separate chambers far from them. It stands to reason that if the older male cannot stomach their relationship, knowing now what they are by blood, he will not be able to bring himself to sleep beside Sephiroth and may even limit the contact they have. At least before they had consummated their bond, Vincent had never denied him these things before. Truthfully, Sephiroth doesn’t know if he can live his life devoid of Vincent. Even now, with barely a foot of space in-between them, he feels as if the older man is miles away from him, is slipping through his hands like water on a scorching day.

Somehow, Sephiroth isn’t too worried about Chaos and doesn’t think the older twin, who apparently is his uncle, will allow their relationship to change much, if at all. The golden-eyed man is not like most people, that much Sephiroth is aware of, since it is apparent that the dragon lives fully and does whatever he wants despite the consequences. If he didn’t have Vincent to restrain and chastise him, Chaos would probably get in heaps of trouble. Unlike most people, Chaos isn’t afraid to venture in uncharted territory, doing things most people would pale at, or feel repulsed by. After all, before Sephiroth, Chaos hadn’t been a relationship sort of person. Before Sephiroth, Chaos had indulged himself in any man and woman he had felt sexually attracted to. Though their relationship had started off as an intensely sexual one, it had progressed into something more, something neither Chaos and Sephiroth had ever experienced before. Like his relationship with Vincent, Sephiroth isn’t willing to let Chaos go either, despite how selfish that may seem to anyone.

Everything had been fine, or mostly fine, until that elven woman had showed up and ruined everything. Feeling a surge of severe hatred and ire towards the female that claims to be his mother, he scowls up at the sky. Brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, and lips forming a tight line, he glares at nothing in particular as he asks in a tight voice, “What are we going to do about Lucrecia?”

“What do you think we should do?” Redirects Vincent, turning his head to finally look at the fair, beautiful man. He regrets this move immediately when he locks eyes with those enchanting, bright malachite eyes. His mouth becomes dry, chest constricts, and a familiar heat simmers in his belly and tickles against his skin. In spite of being conflicted, tortured by the knowledge that this young man is his son, he still feels the undeniable desire to touch him, to taste him, and to love him in ways that Vincent has rarely offered to others. He would be lying to himself and to others if he said he didn’t feel tempted to climb atop the silver-haired hybrid to kiss and touch him in ways that always seemed to gravitate in his brain at all times. Even when he is thinking of other things, even serious matters like Shinra and the White Dragon clan, the desire to bring his lover to rapture is never far from his mind. His love, his craving to please this man never seems to stray far and often drives him to distraction. Though a part of him is disgusted at himself for thinking such thoughts, for doing such things, to his own son, no less, he cannot deny that he still wants him, still loves Sephiroth in a way that should bring him shame, but doesn’t.

Sephiroth blinks in confusion before noticing the blatant, undisguised look of lust on the raven-haired man’s face. Despite the elation he feels at knowing that the dragon still desires him, he carefully keeps his features as blank as possible lest he scare him off. It takes every single ounce of his will power not to smash their mouths together and even more not to pull the larger body on top of his own, weighing him down as he parts his thighs. The memories of their night together, fucking like animals and making love like sweethearts, causes his body to shudder at such erotic, stimulating images. Closing his eyes, he tries to will such thoughts away while he breathes deeply, calming himself down. Eyes still shut, he quietly questions, “Vincent…?”

“I need time,” murmurs the dark-haired male, reaching over to trail the backs of his fingers against Sephiroth’s cheek and jaw before dropping away completely as if afraid he might not be able to control himself. When bright green eyes connect with his smoldering garnet, Vincent seems to be silently saying: _I still love you_.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

A few weeks have passed since Lucrecia had been discovered and imprisoned in the dungeons. Though she is a prisoner still, all her needs are taken care of and she is treated relatively well as per Sephiroth’s wishes. A few guards are always stationed outside her cell, keeping an eye on her and any visitors (or intruders) that may arrive unannounced. In her time spent as a prisoner, she receives few visitors and of those few, it’s mostly Tseng checking up on her to report to his Lords and Grace of her present condition. And then there’s Reeve, who feels enough compassion to keep the lonely, despairing woman company for a time. Sometimes he brings Cait Sith along to entertain her or even a book or two so that she has something to do when no one is around to talk to her. Whenever she asks about Sephiroth, if she may speak with him, Reeve always smiles sadly and promises that maybe her son will visit her next time.

While Tseng feels no pity for the woman, Reeve cannot help feeling sorry for Lucrecia. He doesn’t believe that she deserves to remain locked up here, but at the same time, he’s grateful that the angry lords have ordered that she be treated well and cared for, despite her crimes. Cait Sith has already revealed to him that the one responsible for such orders is Sephiroth himself, which proves to Reeve that the hardened, stoic hybrid man does not carry a heart of steel even though he is permitted to. He’s even noticed that since Sephiroth’s arrival, everyone seems… _softened_ , somewhat. More calm and happy, dare he say. Even Tseng himself seems less uptight these days, though he certainly still frets over the wellbeing of his lords and most of all, over Sephiroth’s wellbeing since he always seems to find trouble and is loved by many already. Something about the silver-haired man causes the dark-eyed Spymaster to fuss even more, much to Sephiroth’s annoyance and everyone else’s amusement.

Chaos spends most of his time training new recruits and taking his men out on patrols since the threat of Shinra, and now Jenova, is still very real and close to home. He never ventures too far just in case he’s needed, but by the time he returns from a long day of flying, fighting, and the occasional killing, he is bone tired. Despite the fact that he isn’t too comfortable with the idea that his mate is related to him, he doesn’t deny Sephiroth the comfort of his arms and body as he lays down next to him each night. Though he still desires him, the dragon lord has refrained from any and all sexual activity, out of respect for his troubled brother. So he has waited, and will attempt to wait as long as he can so that Vincent can come to terms with the truth. If Chaos gives into his lust, he knows it will drive his brother away and make things worse between the three of them. He also knows he cannot expect Vincent to just suddenly accept everything right away and go about their lives like nothing has changed. In truth, something has changed, mostly inside of Vincent, and he knows his twin is railing against it like a warrior in battle. In time, he will accept the truth of what Sephiroth is to him, of what he will always be in spite of the blood relation.

 _Three_ weeks. Three weeks of abstaining from sex. For Chaos, that feels like a hundred thousand lifetimes. He remembers the days, not too long ago, when he couldn’t even refrain from indulging himself for more than three days. It’s been a little over a month now, perhaps longer, since Sephiroth has entered into their lives. Strange thing is to Chaos; it feels like the ex-Knight has already been around them for years now. Sometimes, even when he feels exhaustion bearing down on him in their chambers, he cannot help watching the candlelight dance off his sleeping lover’s face and form. Whatever Sephiroth is, he’s convinced the man is nothing more than an angel, especially when he sleeps. In the end, he doesn’t care if he’s part demon, or a fallen god, a grouchy dwarf, or even completely human. Despite his preference for the male form, he knows that if Sephiroth became a woman, he’d still love him, would still want him. Just like he knows from the lingering stares Vincent casts on Sephiroth (when he thinks no one is watching) that his brother still desires him, loves him. In the end, it will work itself out and things will be right again. But fuck, if Vincent dares drag this out too long, Chaos might end up strangling him out of sheer, pent-up frustration.

Like Chaos, Vincent keeps himself busy dealing with diplomatic matters and occasionally helps in training their soldiers. Though for weeks, he’s struggled with accepting that he’s in love with his own son, he does nothing to avoid Sephiroth like he might have in the past. The younger man graciously gives him his much needed space and doesn’t push him, or try to initiate anything remotely sexual. He doesn’t even try to tease Vincent like he used to, but he does often weasel himself into the older man’s arms at night. A week of Sephiroth giving him space and barely touching him ends up grating on Vincent’s last nerves. He finds himself seeking the younger male out more and more. Each day, the raven-haired man touches him more, his touches lingering and sometimes not so innocent. Sometimes he’s not even aware he’s been staring at Sephiroth too long until someone coughs or waves a hand in his face to gain back his attention. In truth, he’s slowly driving himself into madness and frustration, and by the looks of it, Chaos isn’t faring any better. If he keeps this up, he may end up bending his son, no, his lover, over and taking him in front of anyone present.

There’s something holding Vincent back, though, and for weeks, he’s not sure why he’s been hesitating until one day, his pale mate glances at him from over his shoulder. The look is inviting, almost teasing, and verging on daring, before he looks away and disappears from view. It isn’t until that particular look that the dragon lord realizes _why_ he’s been holding himself back. He’s been waiting for a sign, or should he say, he’s been waiting for Sephiroth to make a move this entire damn time and at the same time, the ex-Knight has been waiting for Vincent to make his move. He remembers telling Sephiroth to give him time, and he had, but for some reason, a part of Vincent has been expecting the younger male to initiate… _something_. Realizing how ridiculous that is, how ridiculous he’s being, he shakes his head and laughs hard for the first time in weeks.

The silver-haired male spends a majority of his time training himself, sparring with Seifer, training new recruits, and visiting friends and family. Since Aerith is cooped up in a room and cannot exactly move freely through the caves, lest she be seen by the wrong person, Sephiroth spends a good deal of time with her. Cloud doesn’t seem too pleased by his presence, but for the most part doesn’t pose any immediate threat. Still, there’s obviously an issue festering there and normally Sephiroth would nip it in the butt already, but being sexually frustrated, he knows to wait lest he literally rip the blond Knight’s head off from his shoulders. He’s already witnessed what Chaos had done to a recruit that had decided to get smart by mouthing off at him.

 _Ugh_ , and not to mention the pregnant Yuffie. She isn’t showing quite yet, but her appetite and mood swings are a clear indication that she is indeed expecting. Sometimes it’s quite amusing to see Cid scampering around trying to please her while cursing under his breath about damned hormonal women. Other times, when she’s really pissed off, or crying rivers, Sephiroth has to sneak out of the house, or attempt to shimmy himself out of the female dragon’s clinging grip as she cries into his chest, smearing it with salty discharge and ugh, _snot_.

Despite his pent-up desires, the hybrid is pleased that Vincent seems to want to be around him despite his own personal issues. He remembers a time, before the consummation, in fact, when the older man would dash off, disappearing somewhere for a time. Instead of his disappearing acts, Vincent seems to purposely seek him out more and more until he’s borderline stalking him. To his pleasure, the older male even touches him, always fleeting caresses until one day, the touch lingers and becomes less chaste. Whatever fears and doubts Sephiroth has about their future together seems to ebb away with each passing day. Vincent isn’t distancing himself or avoiding him, and is even sleeping beside him at night. The dragon’s body and heart are obviously willing, _yearning_ even, for his mind to finally accept the truth and move on. With each burning stare into his flesh, Sephiroth has to fight himself not to pounce on Vincent. Yeah, like he didn’t notice all the blatant eye fucking. As tempting as it is, he knows that Vincent has to make the first move, he has to take the initiative. After all, this is his choice and if he cannot make it, then it cannot be it will not be.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Something fast and hard latches onto Sephiroth, spinning him around and pushing him against the cave wall without harming him. He opens his mouth to protest when another mouth heatedly crushes against his own, silencing any words he may attempt to give. A tongue powers itself mercilessly into the ex-Knight’s mouth while strong hands drag down over pale flesh to cup and squeeze his firm, chiseled backside. The silver-haired man moans into Vincent’s mouth, his body squirming against the larger body that has him pinned against the wall.

“I am an idiot,” groans a breathless Vincent, after breaking the desperate kiss to lean his forehead against his mate’s.

The silver-haired swordsman smirks. “A little bit, yes, but we still love you— _hey!_ Put me down! I can walk, Vincent. I am not an invalid,” protests Sephiroth as strong, tanned arms unceremoniously lift him into the air, carrying him like he is a cherished bride.

Vincent ignores Sephiroth’s protests as he glances over his shoulder at his brother, who is currently leaning against the wall, watching them with his arms loosely crossed. Raising a thin, black eyebrow, the smaller twin prompts, “Are you coming or not?”

“About damned time,” gripes Chaos as he follows after them, shaking his head and grinning at the wriggling male in his twin’s arms. “This is going to be a _long_ night…”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, another cliffy. Sort of. Had to cut it off somewhere otherwise this update would have taken loads longer to happen. 
> 
> Also, UTS and Onus may be both updated in a week or so.


	13. Abduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me for the long wait, I know it’s been over four months or more. I suffered a personal loss around the end of January and co-writing with a fellow writer/friend has helped distract me and it’s been fun, stress-relieving, and therapeutic for me. 
> 
> Fans of Under The Skin & Onus, Onus will be next then UTS. I haven’t given up on my projects. Working full time and trying to have some downtime to relax isn’t easy. Though writing is fun, I wouldn’t call it part of my downtime and let’s face it, Zelda: Breath of the Wild is very…distracting. Anywho, hope you all enjoy this anticipated chapter.

Gasping lips open and close like a fish out of water, moaning when another pair of lips presses against them deeply, teeth clanking against teeth and tongues mating like a pile of writhing snakes. Breaking the fervent, sloppy kiss, golden eyes look up through long, dark lashes to watch in fascination as the familiar form of his brother thrusts between two pale, spread open muscled legs that seem to stretch on forever. With each stroke into his velvet heat, Sephiroth’s heels dig into the furs, toes curling as he grounds himself so that he can rock up against the body currently pounding him into putty. Back arched off the ground and head buried in Chaos’ lap, he gazes up through half-hooded, glazed eyes that burn with unquenchable lust. His arms cling to the larger dragon, lips parted and inviting as he stares up at him beseechingly.

“In due time, you greedy little slut,” husks Chaos, a hand dragging over slick flesh to tweak and mercilessly rub an erect nipple between forefinger and thumb. The younger male hisses, but he knows he delights in the pleasure of it so he continues to abuse each nipple on his quivering, broad chest. Glancing up, he watches in captivation as his little brother, who looks so much like Chaos himself, except slightly smaller and lighter-skinned, eagerly takes his pleasure from the pliant body splayed willingly beneath him. Chaos has always enjoyed watching his lover’s face and his body, but to see himself in the picture, too, or at least someone that looks like him, is beyond erotic to him. As he watches them, the tip of his forefinger tracing Sephiroth’s wet, swollen lips, he realizes then that this is how he must look like whenever he mounts their mate and such a sight is beyond arousing for him. Bending over again, he kisses the younger man’s moaning, panting mouth while his hands continue rubbing and caressing the flesh of his heaving, sweat-slickened chest, occasionally tweaking dusky pink nubs.

Vincent is a man lost as he plunders the inviting, writhing body and becomes even more lost when he catches sight of his twin brother devouring their lover’s abused mouth. In the past, such a sight struck him with jealousy, but now, he only feels fascination. Something about it reminds him that Sephiroth is his _son_ , yet what truly surprises him is the fact that such a thought turns him on now even more than he was before, if possible. It’s perverse and he _should_ be ashamed, he _should_ stop thinking about it, but the thought stays ingrained in his brain as he fucks the younger man, his son, hard and fast, each stroke becoming deeper and jerkier until his release erupts. Clutching onto narrow hips, he presses in as deeply as possible while he spills his seed inside as if his mate is woman and not a man. Once he’s finished, he leans over and kisses Sephiroth deeply before sitting back on his heels to peer curiously at his brother and lover. Looking at Chaos, he asks, “How do you want him?”

Gazing down at the unfulfilled, still hard and wanting hybrid, Chaos considers the question for a moment before he quickly manipulates the smaller body into an upright position with his legs bent and spread. On his knees, he kneels behind Sephiroth, maneuvering him with his back against his chest and his backside flush against his groin. Using one hand to position himself, he guides his enflamed organ inside the loosened, leaking orifice until every single inch of his manhood is buried to the hilt inside the clenching heat. He’d partook in sloppy seconds some years before he met Sephiroth and had enjoyed it then and finds himself immensely enjoying it now, perhaps even more so. Gazing over Sephiroth’s shoulder at Vincent as he begins rolling his hips, he says, “Put that bureaucratic mouth to use, brother. He needs to be put out of his misery…”

Crimson eyes flicker down to the neglected erection that seems to bob for attention with the rutting of sweat drenched bodies. Crawling closer, he slides his hands up strong, flexing thighs until he meets groin. His claw remains anchored to one thigh while his human hand wraps around the base of Sephiroth’s cock. Leaning over, he presses feverish kisses all over his groin, purposely avoiding the shaft until he hears the man between the brothers emit something that sounds suspiciously like a whine. Taking pity on him, Vincent licks from the base all the way to the tip before he swallows the leaking head into his mouth. Swallowing as much of his dick as he can, he uses his hand to squeeze the base while his mouth produces sweet suction and wet heat. He hums almost constantly, knowing how good that had felt when someone else had done that for him.

Occasionally, tongue swirls and teeth scrapes against the sensitive flesh, especially the head, which makes Sephiroth keen and jerk his hips, effectively rocking into that fantastic mouth. He reaches back with one arm and grasps Chaos’ ass as he grinds back against him, eagerly receiving every blissful thrust into his ass. His other hand winds itself into Vincent’s long, dark hair as he fucks the dragon’s mouth with barely any restraint. He’s a mess of a series of elated sounds being wrung out of him from the double stimulation of cock and tongue assaulting him without any mercy. It’s not long before his orgasm hits him full force, causing him to toss his head back and howl out his pleasure as Chaos continues to ram up into him while Vincent swallows down nearly every drop of his essence.

Sephiroth cries out when he’s suddenly bent forward and fucked harder; Vincent quickly vacates his precious spot so that he’s not crushed by the weight of both rutting men. Sitting beside them, he strokes long, metal-colored locks, smiling down at him until said man bolts up and latches onto him, pulling him closer so that Sephiroth can successfully swallow every inch of his newly awakened cock. Vincent sighs, his head falling back as his human hand strokes the head of the man bobbing eagerly between his parted legs, licking and sucking like it’s his favorite treat. The crimson-eyed dragon murmurs, “It’s going to be a _long_ night…”

“Damn right,” agrees the golden-eyed twin from his position hunched over the smaller man, his ass flexing and hips rolling as he repeatedly pummels the slighter male’s abused passage. While he enjoys a multitude of sexual positions and kinks, having Sephiroth bent over on hands and knees as they mate like beasts is a position he can never get enough of for whatever reason. He licks, bites, and sucks at the pale, salty skin of the hybrid’s back while savoring the unrestricted view of their mate pleasuring his brother with his talented mouth.

Hours later, after all three males are tired and well sated, they lay boneless with a spent Sephiroth sandwiched between them, as per usual. Although they’re all pretty messy, not even Vincent is willing to get up to clean them up despite his somewhat finicky ways. Lying on his side, Sephiroth sighs when he feels the larger of the brothers lazily nuzzling his neck while the shorter one reverently strokes his face.

“I love you both, you know,” murmurs Sephiroth before smacking Chaos’ sneaking hand away from his groin. He then takes the same lecherous hand into his own and kisses the top of it endearingly. “Even you, you big, insatiable beast…”

“We know,” yawns Chaos as he snakes his arms around their mate’s waist and buries his face in silver hair, inhaling that unique scent that now also smells of sweat and the musk of sex.

After a lengthy silence, Sephiroth prompts, “One thing bothers me though. Vincent, if I am your son, and Hojo’s…and Gast is my human father, how can that be? You last paired with her over five-hundred years ago, same with Hojo, so how am I _under_ one-hundred years old?”

“That’s a good question,” says Vincent, frowning. He would be lying if he claims he hasn’t been thinking about the same thing for a while now.

“For another day,” grunts Chaos, slapping Sephiroth on his sore ass. “No more thinking or talking. Sleep now or I will make use of your mouth, love…”

“Agreed, but first, I must say, what you both are, what _we_ are, will never matter to me no matter what we learn in the future. I just want you both to know that…and to also know I do not prefer one of you over the other. If I had to choose between you both, I know wouldn’t, I couldn’t…” confesses Sephiroth, his face heating up a bit from his own admission despite what they had just done together not too long ago. While he has grown more comfortable about their sex lives, talking about feelings and emotions still makes him feel like an awkward virgin.

Vincent nods, moving closer to kiss the hybrid man on the forehead. He then gently whispers, “ _And you won’t ever have to_ …”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The motion of something rocking Sephiroth around stirs him from unconsciousness, making him groan and lift his head to peer at his surroundings, which is dark except for a few rays of sunlight streaming through cracks. He’s lying on his stomach, half of his face pressed against wood while his strong arms are tied behind his back by a strange, metallic rope pulsing with dark magic. Using his shoulder, he pushes himself up, failing a few times until he succeeds in sitting up. He then notices something cold, metallic, and unpleasant dangling from his neck. Looking down at it, it appears to be an ancient looking silver amulet of some kind bearing a glowing aquamarine gem eye in the center. Like the ropes, it pulses with strong dark magic that makes him feel sick, dazed and confused. He tries to remember what had happened, but something is preventing him from thinking clearly. Every time he tries to focus his thoughts, many more befuddling ideas barge inside his mind, swirling around like a twister.

“Don’t strain yourself, child,” softly says a masculine voice that sounds familiar to the hybrid man. Whipping his head towards the sound of the voice, he curses when that sudden motion causes his world to spin uncontrollably and a sudden bump causes him to sprawl forwards, landing with a thud. Cursing at that and whoever had done this to him, he forces himself back up somehow and leans against what he assumes is one of the walls of a cart or carriage. Panting lightly, his malachite-colored eyes dart around until they lock onto the form of Rufus Shinra sitting across from him, watching him carefully.

“What is the meaning of this?” Hisses Sephiroth, using his legs to keep his body from jostling so much. Whatever road that’s being traveled on at this present time seems to be ridiculously bumpy, making him feel even more nauseous.

The calm blond dragon leans his head back against the wood, eyes sliding shut as if the younger man isn’t a threat to him at all. There’s something about him that seems different from before and Sephiroth can’t quite place it. “Taking you home, of course. I do apologize for this…unpleasant little trip. Flying right now is not an option, unfortunately.”

“Where are you taking me? What have you done?” Questions Sephiroth, feeling his blood thrum with his seething rage.

“You shall see, soon enough. Be patient, child. It is a _long_ journey, after all,” cryptically says Rufus, who seems unfazed by the glare tearing into his person. In fact, it causes him to smirk a little as he stares back, his ice-cold eyes alight with malice.

Not able to bear that sickening gaze anymore, he turns his face away to stare at the wall instead. “Why do you keep calling me _child_?”

Rufus chuckles darkly as if he knows a secret that the other does not. “Why indeed. It still amazes me to know just how in the dark you really are. You do not really belong anywhere, do you, with how _mixed_ up you are.”

Scowling at how enigmatic the infuriating man is being by toying with him. Sephiroth tries to remain calm and think of a way out of the present situation. Getting angry and struggling would only deplete what remaining energy he has left and with the magic currently binding him, he doesn’t have much left. He’s barely able to keep himself up in an upright position, not to mention he’s barely able to think without spikes of pain and disorientation assailing him. One thing he does know is the moment he’s free from this, Rufus will be dead.

“You are my child, whether you like it or not. You were made for me, and now I am taking you home. In time, you will come around…you will see this is the _only_ path you must take—“ Speaks Rufus before he’s rudely cut off by the younger male.

“—If you refuse to make any sense then kindly shut the fuck up,” growls Sephiroth, who winces when another spike of pain assaults him. He keeps his face turned away, refusing to let that sadistic man see just how much the dark magic is affecting him. He’s suddenly thankful for the curtain of hair that shields his face from the despicable sight of that loathsome white dragon.

“Have you ever thought to wonder _why_ you have walked this world for barely thirty years, yet you are somehow the child of _multiple_ people, one of them being a dragon who has not fucked, yet alone seen that conniving little she-elf for over five-hundred years? Makes little sense, don’t you think? If he is one of your fathers…then should you not be several hundreds of years old already? My, my, what a conundrum. I wonder how **that** can be,” taunts the blond man with a glint in his eye suggesting that he knew all of these answers and possibly more.

Sephiroth is unnerved by the other man asking a similar question to the one he had prompted to both Chaos and Vincent not too long ago. It’s clear to him now despite the disorientation he’s suffering that this sadistic bastard doesn’t intend to answer a single question. He’s just toying with him, like a killer whale tossing around a half-dead seal like it’s a new fun toy. He’d seen something like that years ago while traveling on a ship and the sight of it had unnerved him enough to grab a bow, notch an arrow, and aim so that he could put the poor animal out of its misery. Standing around and doing nothing when he could be doing something isn’t within his character. He must do something, he must be useful and brave. Right now, he’s not doing anything because at this present moment, there’s nothing he can do, and despite the truth of it, it burns him all the same as if he’s a coward.

“That’s right, give up hope. They’re not coming and even if they somehow find out where you are now, they will be too late,” sneers Rufus, who immediately stiffens once realizing what he has just unintentionally let slip out.

Sephiroth lifts his head to stare at the older man in something akin to disbelief. That man’s desire to taunt him, to provoke him has obviously cost him and if the hybrid had enough energy, he would have laughed. “So, they live…”

“Yes, but which ones? A lot of people died, you know,” says the blond dragon, his ice cold, astute eyes never leaving Sephiroth.

The silver-haired being closes his eyes, suddenly remembering the strong, incontestable smell of fire, blood, burnt flesh, and death. He also recalls several white dragons he had effectively felled himself with his blade Masamune. Without opening his vivid green eyes, he murmurs, “Some of them were _yours_ …”

Voice colder and stabbing deeper than his callous eyes, Rufus scoffs, “Yes, well, it was, and still is, worth the cost to _finally_ acquire you. I do not much enjoy losing useful pawns, but it is worth it and I can always get new ones.”

The coldness of the white dragon seeps through his skin, into his constricting chest and into his tortured mind, making him want to vomit until there’s nothing left but bones. Despite the pain, he feels anger surging violently throughout his core. Eyes snapping open to glare at the blond, he venomously spits, “You are a sick, vile beast, but you already knew that. Have you nothing better to do than torment someone who has already lost?”

“Oh, but you do not think you have lost. Not yet. Don’t misunderstand, you have lost, and you will continue to lose more until there is nothing left. Every thought, every move you make now and in the future, will be futile…although I do admit, I will greatly enjoy seeing you struggle,” purrs Rufus as he crawls closer, obviously enjoying the other man’s bitter pain and revulsion. “You will see, in the end, you will see…”

Sephiroth’s vision blurs heavily as he loses his balance and tumbles gracelessly to the side, his heavy body finally having had enough of the pain and sickness that assails it without mercy. Eyes sliding shut, he willingly welcomes the darkness that temporarily liberates him from his wretched misery.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When Sephiroth wakes up again, he blinks bleary eyes open, crusted from sleep, to find himself in a darkened room, or cell. Where he is, he cannot tell, but it is clear to him that he is no longer in a bumpy wagon on some rocky, treacherous road. Slowly sitting up, he immediately curses when a wave of nausea assaults him, nearly making him vomit. Breathing deeply, he pants lightly until the sickness gradually ebbs away to something barely tolerable. Slowly glancing around at his surroundings, he realizes he’s on a small bed in what looks like a small room meant for a guest, except that it is devoid of everything except a small table with a bowl of water, a towel, and a platter of food with drink. Small rays of light slices through the darkness from cracks under the door and other spaces. It’s not enough light to see anything vividly, but he can see well enough to navigate should he have to. There’s no sounds coming from the other room; it’s just as silent as his room save for his quiet panting.

He feels clean, as if he’s been recently washed, which prompts him to glance down at the simple tunic and trousers that he’s now wearing. Since the room is cold, he’s glad for the comfort of clothes, but at the same time, wearing cloth over most his body feels strange to him now. Underneath his tunic and long-sleeved shirt, he can still feel the cold amulet that tangles from his neck and rests against his chest as a grim reminder of just who has him imprisoned. He’s surprised he hasn’t been thrown in some dark, dank cell to be shackled up and have rats as companions, but as he thinks on it, he realizes it should come as no surprise to him. Rufus has already told him several times that he has some sort of design for him, which probably requires his body to be _healthy_. After all, why would anyone go through so much trouble, sacrifice so many of his own people, just to throw him in some dungeon to rot away? Rational people wouldn’t, but then again, that white dragon doesn’t seem all there in the head. Like Genesis was, there is something off about Rufus that seems eerie, yet slightly familiar to him somehow. What it is, he doesn’t know and isn’t certain he wants to know at this present moment.

Like the first time he felt waking up in the wagon, there is a sickness seeped deeply into his weary body and mind that worsens considerably whenever he tries to focus his mind or even touch the amulet, and there’s also a sharp, unforgiving pain that assaults him at the same time. The pain is so intense that when it does finally ebb off enough to be tolerable, he wakes up on the floor lying in his own vomit. Thankfully it’s mostly liquid since he probably hasn’t consumed anything in the length of time it took to abduct and transport him here. Grimacing, he slowly sits up and glares at nothing. It takes him several minutes to regain his composure before he can sluggishly rise up on shaky legs. Stumbling to the table, he leans over and splashes water on his face from the basin. Voice parched, he picks up the pitcher, ignoring the cup provided, and chugs at least two or three cups worth of water. Glancing at the food, he feels his stomach clenching painfully at the thought and smell of the food. Despite his nausea, he knows starving himself is not an option so he forces himself to at least nibble on what looks and smells like venison. The food and even the water may be poisoned, but he has little choice but to drink and eat if he intends to keep up his strength.

After the hybrid man is finished with what he could barely stomach eating, regaining some energy, he slowly walks around the room, his hand trailing against the wall as his sharp eyes scan for anything and everything. When he stops at the door, he steps back a bit when something hot and intense licks at him and notices there’s a glimmer about the door that he can barely see. The silver-haired prisoner can feel the magic imbued in the door, buzzing and swirling as if ready to strike like a snake. Inhaling deeply and without getting too close, he then looks through the vertical crack of the door, but sees nothing but flickering light and shadow. At this proximity, he figures that the light streaming into his room is not a natural light, but torch light due to the hue and the smell of burning oil. Because of the artificial light, he doesn’t know whether it is day or night, which means he will have nothing to ascertain how much time passes during his imprisonment here. Wherever he is, he may be underground in a cave, or some sort of fortress. If there’s a guard on the other side of the door, he doesn’t know since he cannot see anything nor can he hear a thing.

Having nothing to do, and limited energy and stamina to deal with constant pain and sickness, he passes the time by exercising his body in whatever way he can to help distract himself, but doesn’t dare deplete too much of his energy just in case someone decides to swing by to _visit_. He keeps expecting Rufus to barge in at any moment to torment him some more, but after hours of nothing, it never happens. It’s not that he anticipates seeing and talking to Rufus, or whoever else; it’s just that having things unresolved _and_ having nothing to do, has winded him up, twisting his nerves enough to feel dreadfully anxious about the whole situation. After several hours of nothing eventful happening to him, his mind and body tires enough for him to slip back into unconsciousness.

Several days or even weeks, Sephiroth doesn’t rightly know, passes without anything eventful happening. Since being locked up in this small room, no one has paid him a visit, not even the white dragon himself. Each day he wakes up, it’s exactly like the first day waking up in this place. His clothes are fresh, his body cleansed, chamber pot empty, and food and drink replenished as if someone had slipped in during his slumber. Suspecting this, the first few days, he had attempted to stay up all night and day, yet failed each time due to his limited energy and boredom. Because all his physical needs are met each day, he’s concluded that Rufus, or whoever he really is, wants him to remain healthy enough and not waste away into a bag of brittle, filthy bones like what usually occurs with most prisoners. He’s not certain whether that’s a good thing or not just yet. What he is certain of is that whatever has been planned for him will be something horrendous and unnatural.

Another thing Sephiroth has figured out is a way to actually focus his thoughts without hurting himself too much or blacking out from the pain. Since he has literally nothing to do to pass the time besides pace the room and do push-ups, he’s settled on figuring out a way to break whatever spell that’s on him. Though he’s nowhere near as knowledgeable in magic as his sister, Aerith, he can still detect the magic in the amulet, which indicates that it is the cause of his suffering and his limitations. It’s keeping him sick, weak, and disorientated so he cannot think clearly, hence escape from this wretched place. Like anything, even magic has rules and limitations and being what magic is with there being light and dark spells, magic itself is neither good or evil. Keeping this in mind, Sephiroth spends his time focusing his mind for short bursts of time several times a day. In the beginning, he can only manage to focus once or twice, but after several days of painstaking training, he finds himself able to think more clearly multiple times a day. He knows that his brain is a muscle and if it doesn’t get exercise, it will atrophy, it will fail. Because of this, he suspects that Rufus placed this spell on him to deteriorate his mind and has isolated him in this room to break his spirit. The thing the white dragon isn’t counting on is Sephiroth’s sheer stubbornness that spurs him to keep moving on, to not give up in this seemingly hopeless situation.

At first, his thoughts center on simple ideas like Vincent’s ghost of a smile, Chaos’ barking yet warm laughter, and the relieved look on Aerith’s face whenever he had returned from battle alive and mostly unscathed. He recalls simple images, sounds, tastes, and even smells over the next few days and eventually conjures up more complicated things like remembering the way his friends, family, and even enemies had made him feel, continue to make him feel. Despite the pain and sickness that assails him with each memory he recalls, he feels stronger for it as he builds up a resistance to the pain. He consumes a little more food each day and works his body out more and more until one day, he nearly feels like his old self again. That same day is the day Rufus decides to show up for an unannounced visit.

“My, the insolent whelp is looking mighty fine, these days,” says the where dragon after scrutinizing Sephiroth for several long minutes. Surprise glints in his eyes for a moment before he quickly wills it away, but the hybrid man catches it it right before it disappears behind the older man’s mask of cold apathy. “A little too well, it seems…”

Sephiroth says nothing as he looks up and glares murderously at the pompous male. He then quickly ducks his head, clenching his teeth and hissing as if he’s in a great deal of pain. There is pain, yes, but not enough for him to pass out, or even bat an eye. Though the other man seems to suspect something, the silver-haired ex-Knight knows he must play a part or all will have been for naught. He might not be able to escape today, or even tomorrow; however, if he accesses the situation just right, he will figure out how to proceed and he will take the first opening he gets. Until then, he must be patient and vigilant without giving the game away. If he ever wants to escape from this place and from his unsavory fate, he must not fail.

“Why…are you here?” Grits out Sephiroth, his back against the wall and posterior rooted to the cold floor. He’s hunched over, knees bent and arms hugging his legs close to his heaving chest. His face is tilted down so that a good portion of his long, silky hair is shielding his face from view as he pretends to pant from the pain.

“To check on your condition, of course…though I must admit, I am curious about a few things. I am certain you must be wondering why you are here, in this _delightful_ place, and being taken care of almost like an esteemed guest. Have you figured it out yet, I wonder…” Goads Rufus, his cold eyes hungrily savoring the image of the mixed breed suffering from such intense pain.

“Every thought…is agony and yet…you dare ask for my thoughts?” Growls the malachite-eyed man, the anger very real, He suddenly feigns a coughing fit and clutches at his midsection, hunching over further as if the agony and nausea is making him want to vomit.

Watching him for a few minutes longer than necessary, the unscrupulous dragon sighs in exasperation as if this is an enormous waste of his valuable time. Bending down on one knee, he flourishes his hand in front of the other man, causing the amulet to ride up out from under his tunic to rest on the front of it. He then snaps his fingers, which causes the amulet to glow faintly as he smirks. “I’ve lessened the spell… _temporarily_ …just for our little talk. As much as I enjoy your pain, it is tedious talking to someone that can only drool and grunt…”

True to his word, all the unpleasant sensations seem to vanish almost completely from Sephiroth’s mind and body. His body sags in relief, arms loosening around his legs and his forehead slowly leaning forward to rest on the top of his knees. He breathes in sharply then exhales deeply like a person taking their first breath after holding it for a long time underwater. Truth be told, the unpleasantness from before has become tolerable thanks to his own personal training; however, he knows better than to reveal that. Being a warrior and not a bard or jester, his acting skills may not be top brass, but he has suffered from the spell long enough to know how to fake its effects properly.

The silver-haired warrior deadpans, “How kind of you…”

“Now, don’t you dare try anything, boy. Although I have lessened the effects of the spell, should you try to attack me…you won’t enjoy the consequences, unless you happen to be a masochist, that is. I suspect that you are not,” warns Rufus with a lilt to his voice that seems to insinuate that he would greatly enjoy it if the other man didn’t heed his warning.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to jabber on?” Says Sephiroth as he lifts his head slowly to glare up at the infuriating blond. The desire to beat him to death rises in him like a tumultuous wave that he quickly forces back. As much as he would enjoy breaking every bone in that wretched body, he knows he would not succeed. Even if Rufus is lying to him about the spell, Sephiroth still doesn’t feel strong enough to be a formidable opponent. Meddlesome magic or not, he has already accessed that the white dragon is a strong, intelligent foe.

Suddenly grabbing the younger man by the neck, Rufus slams him against the bed before bodily pinning him down, his hand still holding him by the neck hard enough to suffocate him. Peering down into his face, he sneers, “Sluts like you should learn to hold their tongue unless it’s for something _useful_.”

“Get off me,” growls Sephiroth, his voice hoarse as he glares venomously up at the sickening creature pinning him down, making him feel like an insect with its wings and body immobilized by pins cruelly tacked into its body against some glass framed board. Fear trickles into his being at how his instincts are screaming about the other man’s intentions. He’s never been raped in his life, but the threat of it is very real, and even in war, some soldiers are debased by their enemies, male or female. Rape is an ugly thing, a weapon used to dominate and humiliate others and it’s someone Sephiroth would never do, not even to his worst enemy. He’s never believed it would happen to him, but in this very real, appalling moment, he feels like it might happen. Even if it does, he is determined to fight tooth and claw, and will go for a low blow if he must.

“I will get off when I am good and ready,” leers Rufus and as if reading the ex-knight’s mind, Rufus uses his free hand to reach in between them to harshly seize and rub at the limp manhood concealed by a thin layer of fabric. Licking the side of the other man’s face, he chuckles lowly at the growl he feels vibrating against his hand gripping that long, strong neck. “Why you protest, I don’t know…since you are obviously a whore for dragons.  I can only imagine how distressed your masters are, if they’re even alive, that is, at losing their prized toy. Oh, but from what I hear about Chaos, he’ll find another willing hole soon enough and that brother of his will probably become a celibate monk…if he doesn’t kill himself, that is. It’s pathetic how he spent hundreds of years moping over some low born she-elf…”

Sephiroth’s eyes widen, slit-like pupils dilating as rage overtakes his whole body, every drop of his blood sweltering with unbridled fury and hatred. His green eyes glow brightly while a bright light cloaks his entire being, lighting the room unbearably as he snarls his wrath in an ancient language that almost sounds demonic. The energy of his being pumps wildly, coursing through him so quickly he can barely see anything as it shoots forward, flinging the white dragon off and causing him to fly through the air before colliding violently with the wall with a sickening smack.  Panting harshly, the enraged ex-knight sits up quickly to closely watch the groaning dragon rise shakily to his feet. He can easily detect the anger and violence rolling off the incensed white dragon, which would have surely choked him if he wasn’t so angry himself. Like a beast with its hackles raised, he pushes off from the bed and instinctively moves into a fighting stance.

The white dragon freezes as if hearing a command and appears to be listening to something Sephiroth cannot hear. His body stiffens a bit before his shoulders sag in defeat as he submits to the other unseen being’s will. “ _Very well. He will remain unharmed_ ,” he hisses in a whisper as if speaking to someone else in the room. Turning his attention back to the panting, combative hybrid, he spitefully sneers, “Calm your tits, boy. I will not touch you again. The only reason someone like you has remained in such good shape is to serve a specific purpose…a purpose you will serve whether you are willing or not. Just like Genesis and all the others before him. You are nothing but a pawn, just like that friend of yours…”

Narrowing his glowing eyes, Sephiroth bites out, “What are you talking about? You make no sense, as usual, you sadistic, sick fuck…”

Rufus chuckles darkly as he wipes away the blood from his face since the collision with the wall and Sephiroth’s magic has unexpectedly injured him. “Why don’t you ask yourself how you came to be captured? Though it pains me to admit it, the black dragon clan is not exactly easy to battle and are in fact…quite powerful in their own right. Slipping past their defenses requires some cunning…and of course, a traitor or two. Genesis was quite effective until…he wasn’t. The other one proved to be more effective, I’ll say…”

“Stop prattling on and just say it already. I am in no mood for your head games,” snaps Sephiroth, both of his hands clenched into hard fists as they shake from the barely restrained rage that still festers within his core.

The white dragon’s previous anger has been replaced by amusement as he regards the younger male with a smirk. “Someone has betrayed you, boy. Do you not want to guess who? Someone close to you, someone who you thought respected you. As distasteful as treachery is, even to a, what did you refer to me as, _a sadistic, sick fuck_? Aha, yes, that’s it. As I was saying, as repulsive as even someone as I finds it, I suppose I can understand his reasoning since he is merely protecting someone he loves…”

“You are lying,” counters Sephiroth since he finds himself unwilling to believe that anyone he trusts would do such a vile thing.

Rufus cackles, “Am I? I must admit…that glamour on that sorceress Tifa was a good one, indeed. I _almost_ believed she was the Princess for a moment. Even more surprising is when her Beloved sought me out personally to make a little deal of sorts. Kind of sad how he ruts with the sorceress when he wants to stick it in the Princess, well, if he hasn’t done it already. I cannot say I blame him since tearing apart the virginal pussy of such an innocent girl can be just as pleasurable as taking even your well _used_ backside—”

“— **DO NOT SPEAK OF HER**!” Roars Sephiroth, his bright light flickering around his seething being in what is obviously a warning. The spiraling power of his being pulses with every pump of his furiously beating heart. Every mention of his loved ones from those deceitful, vindictive lips is enough to make him teeter off the edge in unconstrained rage. His brain is instructing him to be smart, to use his wit while his heart is shrieking in rage and crying out for the other man’s blood.

“My, my, how touchy we are,” tuts the white dragon as if he is dealing with a toddler throwing a fit about a broken toy. Body now fully healed, his soiled hand drops to the side, the blood already dry against his white skin. A faint smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as if he can barely contain his own glee. “So…have you figured it out yet? Who the traitor is, I mean?”

“Cloud would never…” Trails off Sephiroth, but already he’s feeling the seeds of doubt sprouting within his uncertain psyche. Though he has come to respect and trust the blond knight, he cannot attest to knowing the younger man all that well. Cloud has always been a quiet, reserved sort of man unlike Sephiroth’s best friend, Zack. Despite the similar looks, both Cloud and Zack are like night and day, fowl and fish, or like water and earth.  

“Oh, but he has,” disagrees Rufus as he steps closer to the glowing hybrid. His pale eyes flicker down at the amulet scornfully as if the thing has failed or displeased him somehow. He then says, “In order to protect Princess Aerith, he offered _you_. Your capture was as easy as it could be thanks to your fellow knight and friend, one Cloud Strife. I mean, he did seem conflicted about it…probably didn’t like being a turncoat, but it was for love, so who can blame him? Love is love, after all. If Genesis were alive, you could ask him all about it…” And then Rufus slips his hand into one of his pockets and retrieves something he holds up so that the younger man can plainly see.

Sephiroth’s light dies down as he stares wide-eyed at the familiar, one-of-a-kind dagger with the Midgar Knight Commander sigil inscribed in silver on the black, leather wrapped hilt. It’s the very same dagger he had given to Cloud shortly before leaving to take Aerith’s place as the Sacrifice. He would know that dagger from anywhere since it hums with his own distinctive magic energy. Suddenly he wishes he had given the blade to Zack instead of Cloud. He initially had given it to Cloud as a parting gift, a gesture of courage for the troubled knight. Despite him finding himself desperately wanting to believe that the blade was taken from a defeated Cloud in battle, he cannot help admitting that the blond knight’s treachery seems to be the better explanation for his capture although he still cannot clearly remember the events leading to his capture and imprisonment.

“Keep the trinket,” says Rufus as he allows the dagger to tumble from his hand to clatter noisily to the stone ground. He then saunters towards the door, “Think on it, long and hard, while you still can, Ex-Knight Commander Sephiroth. I will allow you such since…well, _it_ won’t be long now, it won’t be long at all, my _Vessel_ …”

 

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any errors, but if something is odd or sticks out a lot, do let me know. I really wanted to post this, so I didn't do any last minute editing like I usually do. I hope you all enjoyed and next chapter will probably be out in a few weeks.


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